A Friend helping a Friend
by Babatomyfriends
Summary: This is about the 'other' Mondler - fat Monica and deadbeat Chandler in The One That Could Have Been - and the story of their first night together, so basically just mushy Mondler smut. I've planned this as a One-Shot with two chapters for the time being, however there might be more, if you like it enough and always provided I get some more ideas of course.
1. A friend in need

_A/N: Yes, it's them, the 'other' Mondler from S6E15 The One That Could Have Been. I've always been fascinated by their story, how fat Monica and Loser Chandler not only manage to get together, but build up a loving relationship from there, plus in the end come out as the only real winners of all six of them, the only ones who are really happy at the end of the episode. I've planned this as a one shot with two chapters about their first night together for the time being, however there might be more if I get some more ideas about them, and of course, depending on the response this will get._

 _._

Thank god for Chandler's habit of raiding her fridge on a regular basis. If he hadn't come over tonight, she would have spent a lonely, frustrated evening on her couch watching TV and eating all that aphrodisiac food she had spent all day preparing herself, even though it was supposed to get Roger if not all horny and lusting for her then at least to pay her some more attention for a change, make him realize that she was a woman. Not just a sounding board for his lectures, or a provider of free food and entertainment or even someone who paid him attention (there couldn't be that many others – at least not that many who managed to be still awake after 10 minutes), not even an immature girl, but a woman. Who had needs. Needs that it was high time to satisfy. Rachel had been right there, as embarrassed and uncomfortable their conversation had made her (but at least she had called her off her high horse at least once, that had to count for something), it had made her realize that if she really wanted it to happen, she had to make it happen. And she really did. Not only did she want to give up her flower, her flower was by now practically begging her to be given away. If it didn't get to be perfect, so what? It would be better than to be alone any longer. Anything would be better. And who said it wouldn't be perfect? She could work towards making it perfect.

So she had tried and for a moment it had indeed looked as if it worked. Everything had been perfect, with Phoebe in the hospital she finally had the apartment all to herself, she had a new black skirt that looked quite good on her, she had found some really amazing special recipes for just that kind of occasion and preparing all that exotic food had been so much fun. As usual Roger had been a little slow on the uptake, but she was quite sure he had finally caught on, because when she kissed him, his breath had actually hitched for a moment and even caused him to stutter a little. And if his awful beeper hadn't gone off at that very moment, she would really have pulled it off. Scored. Just a few more nudges, a little pushing – okay, maybe a lot more pushing – and she would have gotten him into her bedroom, maybe with a little dragging too, but she would have gotten there eventually. And once she had gotten him to drop his pants, she would have made sure his goddamn beeper would be shut off too. Why did he always have to be on call anyway? What did it actually tell her about him that his work was always more important than spending the night with her?

But it was and he had left and if it hadn't been for Chandler, she would have finished all that lovely couscous and the oysters by herself now. At least that way she would only gain one of those hard lost three and a half pounds back. Or maybe two, since apparently he preferred making fun of couscous to actually eating it.

Her friend Chandler. Ross's old college roommate who had somehow ended up in the apartment across from hers and now seemed to have become a part of her life, someone who was always around, almost like he was part of the scenery. As much a loser as she was, forever frustrated, clueless, broke, searching for recognition, success, the perfect score, with his glasses he thought made him look intellectual but really made him appear more vulnerable, and the Knicks cap that he never ever took off, hiding behind a mask of jaded casualness and sneering sarcasm while fervently hoping that no one would ever take that last shred of dignity and confidence away from him. She never would and that was probably why he spent so much more time with her than any of their other friends, Joey included. At times it seemed to her that they had a sort of unspoken pact going, a pact that ensured they'd both always have at least each other as a friend, someone to count on for friendly companionship, for things that were no fun or even impossible to do alone like going to the movies or play games. Over time she had gotten to know him pretty well. Unfortunately it meant that he knew her pretty well too, but that just couldn't be helped. But at least it meant that he understood her better than Joey or Phoebe, and especially Ross who still treated her like a child, and that he was actually aware of her feelings. Like now.

"I'm sorry you're here with me instead of Roger." he offered.

"Yeah, me too." She regretted it as soon as it was out – no need to take her frustration out on him - but he just shrugged it off.

"Well, I could make it seem like he's here." He pushed his glasses back up and managed to assume Roger's lecturing style fairly accurately. "Here's some little known facts about couscous. They didn't add the second cous until 1979. Bla-bla, blablarbblab-bla …"

"Stop it! That's not funny!" That made him blink. She rarely got this upset, but tonight had been a real disappointment and she was in no mood to have her last hope made fun of. Even if he had nailed it rather.

"I'm sorry, okay? It just—tonight was supposed to be - it was supposed to be a big deal."

"What was tonight?" God, why did he always have to know everything? But on the other hand she just had to talk to someone. All that frustration was getting too much.

"You don't want to know what tonight was."

"Okay." And just when she thought he wouldn't persist: "What was tonight?"

She had to let it out. "Well, tonight was—was going to be my first time."

"With Roger?" She couldn't meet his eyes and bit her lips suddenly wishing herself far away. "Not just with Roger?! Oh my God!"

Why did he have to sound so shocked? Was it really such a big deal? He of all people should know what it was like.

"All right, relax, Mr.-I've-Had-Sex-Four-Times!"

"Four different women!" he spat. "I've had sex _way_ more times!"

Oh, sure. "How many?"

"Nine." Rather defensive all of a sudden, and she mentally divided that number by two. That number of women didn't sound all that realistic either. But who was she to talk? They were in the same boat after all.

"I was just waiting for the perfect guy." While she said it she realized how naïve that sounded. How – unrealistic. Illusionary. Yet Chandler seemed to find it perfectly acceptable. Once he probably had cherished the same illusion. Maybe still did.

"Well good, good for you. You really think that Roger is the perfect guy?"

"No." she admitted, amending it to "He's not a horrible guy ..."

That made him grin. "Hey that's what I tell girls about me!" Yeah, right, who cared? Suddenly all the pent up frustration burst out of her. "Chandler, I'm gonna die a virgin!"

"No you are not! You are sweet and wonderful and this is gonna happen for you." That actually sounded very sweet, but also too much like all those hollow promises she got to hear all the time and that were of no practical help at all. She had enough of those. Did he really think he could make her feel better with just that?

"Oh really? When?" Time to get down to brass tacks. "Do you wanna do it with me?"

"Okay." He'd answered quickly, almost casually even and only when she stared at him open-mouthed, he seemed to realize the whole extent of what he'd said and froze. Suddenly her throat seemed too tight.

"I - I was kidding!"

He swallowed. "So was I …" But his face told another story and she narrowed her eyes. Okay. This was Chandler, her awkward, insecure, flippant, needy, boyish, sometimes annoying friend. Could she really do this with him? Well, she had been prepared to do it with Roger, who was certainly no catch, so why not at least consider it? As he had said himself, he wasn't a horrible person. Quite the contrary. Or would it be too embarrassing?

"We can't do this." He mumbled now, almost echoing her thoughts.

"No!" They both laughed with a sort of fake relief, and she offered him another oyster. He took it, but just put it on his plate instead of eating it.

"If - if we did do this there would be a lot of pressure on me, y'know? Because you've been waiting a very long time and I wouldn't want to disappoint you."

Good, so he actually was still considering it. And though it showed her how insecure he was, that argument was actually very sweet and considerate.

"Yeah, but see I have nothing to compare it too. So even if you're horrible, how would I know?"

"I do like that." He did seem a little reassured.

"It's harder for me! I have those four other women to compete with!"

He looked a little sheepish at that. "Well, if it helps there were only three." That still seemed at least one too many, but never mind.

"So it would just be for tonight, right?"

So there it was, out on the table. Just what she had wanted. No romance. No perfect dream night. Just the physical act, to help her mature, get more confident, acquaint her with the facts of life, grow-up at last. Once it was done she could look forward, be able to get a better grip on things, secure in the knowledge that she finally knew what it was all about …

"Absolutely! It would just be one friend helping out another friend."

"Stop it! We're not doing this!" But then he seemed to waver again. God, why was this so hard? "Let's do it!"

"Noo!" But if she chickened out now, there would be no other chance and she would regret it for the rest of her days. And how would the two of them be able to keep up their friendship if this untaken chance remained between them?

"Okay!"

"Okay!" They got up and stood facing each other nervously in front of the fridge. Chandler seemed to be at a total loss how to proceed, so she took the initiative, not wanting to lose any more time.

"Umm, do you have any uhh, moves?" Not that she knew what that really meant, but he didn't need to know that.

His mouth worked. "I have some moves."

"I have no moves." She looked at him with some apprehension as he slowly approached her, lowering his head a little and leaning in with his mouth puckered – and all of a sudden her nerve left her again. This was so strange, how could she kiss him? She had never really kissed before, only short pecks on the lips that didn't lead to anything. But if she let him kiss her, it wouldn't be just a peck, just their lips touching. He would expect more. There would be spit involved. Maybe even tongues – ugh. She wasn't ready for that. Or was she?

"Okay, whatcha doin' there?!" She withdrew just as he backed off too, and then wanted to kick herself. "Oh y'know what? I'm sorry, this is just too weird."

"Yeah, let's just forget it." He agreed and when she saw how freaked he too seemed to be, her resolution returned. She was so close, how could she turn back now? Okay, maybe if they couldn't see each other?

"What if I turn out the lights?"

"Okay!" That sounded rather relieved too, but she was already on her way across the room to flip the switch on the wall between the two bedroom doors. The room went dark, too dark for her to see anything at first, and then only the vaguest of schemes. Cautiously she felt her way back until she reached the couch, all the while listening for him. She could hear him breathing as he came closer. Then only the couch was between them and he reached out –

and his hand encountered the couch and as he started to stroke it and moan a little, she realized that he could see even less than her and had actually mistaken the backrest for her. And just like that her insecurity vanished. She had nothing to prove, no one to impress. This wasn't a test. And Chandler was no stranger. She had never kissed him, but they had been close before, quite often actually, had hugged each other, sat squeezed together on the sofa in Central Perk, had shared her easy chair and his Barcalounger. It had always felt nice. He was no threat. Anything but. If there was anyone she could do it with, it was him.

"Oh yeah ..."

"Chandler?"

"Yeah?" He actually sounded turned on. It was almost funny, but she couldn't, wouldn't spoil it now by making fun of him.

"That's the couch."

There was a pause while he kept himself very still. Then -

"I know." It sounded almost resigned and she acted without thinking, stepping around the couch and putting her arms around him. He turned to her and slowly, almost hesitantly drew her close, wrapping his arms around her. Only then she did wonder if it would turn out she was too bulky for him, that his arms wouldn't reach – but actually he managed quite nicely.

For a long moment they just remained like that while their bodies tentatively got used to each other, established contact. She felt his hand on the back of her head stroking her hair and his fingers wriggling under her scarf to caress her neck, and then his cheek on hers, his slight stubble tickling her jawbone as he breathed in.

"I was just … you know, getting in the mood …"

"With my couch?" She tightened her arms to show him that she didn't mean it, was just trying to keep it light, casual, while she really was getting nervous again. It just felt so strange to feel him so close to her in the dark, pressing against her and know that soon they would get closer still, would get naked, would do it. This was it.

And yet it felt so good. Her arms seemed to fit right around him and his body felt – comfortable somehow. Soft but solid, and his warmth was comforting, even reassuring. Also he smelled quite good, that Speed Racer t-shirt must have been freshly laundered when he had put it on this morning. When he chuckled a little self-deprecatingly, she felt the vibrations in his chest against her arms and her breasts. It made her realize that he too was feeling her pressed against him, her body, her breasts against his chest, maybe even how her nipples had hardened – that thought was confusing and exciting at the same time. She tried to get closer still, mold herself against him and even raised one of her knees a little and rubbed it against his thigh. She felt him breathe in sharply at that, and then his arms tightened around her. When he raised his head she instinctively knew what he was about to do and held herself very still, closing her eyes.

The first thing she felt was the tip of his nose touching hers and it made them both laugh breathlessly for a moment. Then his lips descended on hers while she was still laughing, and tentatively brushed across her mouth. It made her heart beat faster. Oh my god, he was actually kissing her, this was her first real kiss ever … and it felt so – amazing. Now he pressed closer, but the touch was still very light, just his lips on hers, gently moving, nudging, exploring … He didn't demand, didn't force himself on her, only teased and caressed, until she couldn't resist any longer and cautiously opened her mouth just a little, let her lips part under his as if by themselves. She heard him breathe in again sharply and felt his head turn just a fraction so he could get a better angle, then his mouth pressed closer again. She thought he would stick his tongue into her mouth next and was pleasantly surprised when he just started to nibble at her lips instead. Every now and then his teeth would touch her lips briefly, making a rather exciting contrast to the softness of his mouth as they caught on the inside of her lips, and the way they grazed across the sensitive skin made her head swim. She threw herself into the game wholeheartedly then, catching his lower lip playfully with her teeth and letting it go again. He moaned a little at that and opened his mouth a little more, and then she did encounter his tongue, but just the tip and he didn't push it forward, but let it hover between his teeth, just offering it to her. And there was no way she could resist that offer, not when it made her heart pound that wildly and her knees go so weak. When their tongues touched she marveled at how hot his seemed and the thrills that touch sent through her. His breath-rate sped up until he was almost panting and only when the kiss broke again she became aware that she had been running out of air too. They kept their heads close together though and after a few hasty breaths she urgently pressed her mouth on his again, hungry for more. If only she had known before how amazing this was! It made her body tingle and vibrate, open up somehow like a new leaf unfurling to the sun … Then she felt his hands move. The one on the back of her neck crept under her hair and his fingers started to caress the skin of her neck while the one on her shoulders moved a little downwards towards the small of her back until it reached the edge of her jacket, and then his fingertips slid under it, cautiously exploring the lay of the land there. It should have felt strange, maybe even alarming, but somehow she welcomed it, even wanted to encourage him. On an impulse she started to bunch up his t-shirt and sweatshirt under it and slid her hands up his back. When her fingers touched his skin they both started a little, but he immediately resumed the kiss, if possible even more urgent than before. Soon she found that she couldn't get enough of his skin. It amazed her how soft it was, and how smooth and warm. There was his spine and some ribs, and here she could feel one of his shoulder-blades. She could feel him move his arm on that side just before she felt his hand slowly advance upwards under her cardigan. She only wore a thin chemise under it, and her bra of course, and when she realized that he was heading slowly but surely for the latter another thrill went through her. So this was what it was like to make out with someone, have someone feel you up, someone who really wanted you …

When their kiss broke for the second time her heart was beating like a sledgehammer. His was going pretty fast too, she could feel it under her hand and hear it in his breath. She clung to him even harder, not sure of her footing anymore, her knees kept buckling somehow. When he searched for her mouth again, she swallowed and tried to speak. At first only a squeak came out and she had to take a deep breath and try again.

"Shouldn't we – you think – go – umm – I mean, not here …?"

He held himself still, even holding his breath, and then sighed.

"Yeah … sure. Of course. By all means … um – are you sure?"

"Yes!" She pressed her hands against his back, drawing him close again and laughing breathlessly. His breath hitched and his other hand joined the one on her back under her jacket and pressed down too. That was when she felt the sudden bulge rising at his center as it strained against his jeans. It gave her a deep thrill and when he tried to shift a little to hold himself away from her she wouldn't let him. After a moment he relaxed again and they kissed once more, with a few breathless laughs mixed into the kiss. She wanted to shout with joy and triumph. She had done it, she had caused him to have an erection. It felt utterly amazing. And deeply exciting.

She couldn't tell who made the first move towards the bedroom, but somehow she found herself being steered backwards and then turning around and pushing him in turn without letting him go once. They reached the door and she spared a hand to open it, and give it a push to shut it behind them again. There was a little more light in her bedroom from the streetlamp far below her window, just enough she could see a little more of him than a vague shadow. They stumbled to the bed, still kissing and moaning, grabbing and clutching at each other and first sat and then sank down on it. He hooked a leg over her hip and pushed up her jacket once more while they kissed and she slid her hand under his t-shirt over his waist and tugged at it. Then all of a sudden she couldn't wait any longer. Raising herself up on one elbow she started to unbutton her cardigan and wiggled out of it, and tore off her scarf too. Chandler stared at her, the dim light catching in his glasses and she thought she saw him swallow. For a moment he remained still, then he abruptly sat up, grabbed hold of his sweater and t-shirt and pulled both of them up over his head together, fighting his way out of them and finally flinging them off. She stared at him, letting her gaze wander over his chest and shoulders, noting the way his chest hair started just under his nipples and spread across his ribs, then grew in a sort of line down to his navel. His skin was very light, like hers, untouched by the sun except on his arms and over his neckline. Now he caught her staring at him and smiled rather shyly, while he proceeded to kick off his sneakers. It reminded her that she was still wearing her shoes too and she took them off too, and then drew down the zipper of her skirt and pushed it over her legs, letting it fall over the edge of the bed. When she raised her eyes again she saw that he was watching her intently and felt a queer fluttering in her stomach. If she took off anything more she would be naked, and so would he, once he took off his pants …

Then he scooted over and reached out for her, drawing her close. She sank against him with a sigh and they kissed again. His hands slid over her arms and back and finally over her hips, still in her black pantyhose that was slowly but surely becoming too warm for her. But she couldn't bring herself to take it off. He would see how wide her hips were and how huge her panties. What if that turned him off? If only … Just then he lowered his head and kissed her on her shoulder under the clavicle and then on her neck where her pulse hammered under the skin.

"Let's get under the covers" he whispered and just like that she felt utterly relieved. Of course, that was the way it would work. Why hadn't she thought of that herself?

"Could you – take off your pants first?"

"Oh yeah, sure." He rolled on his back, fumbling at the button and she couldn't help noticing that the bulge was still very much in evidence. He caught her gaze and grinned wryly.

"Would you like to …?"

She nodded and sat up, got off the bed and took hold of the pant legs, tugging at them carefully while he pushed and wriggled. He was wearing rather faded blue boxers that were so worn and saggy that they threatened to come down along with his jeans and once his pants were gone were comically tenting over his groin. He drew up his legs rather hastily and scooted backwards over the bed, hurriedly getting under the covers, and she realized that he was as embarrassed about his body as she was about hers. Or maybe it was just about the sad state of his underwear, but it still made her feel a lot better, and she tossed the jeans over her chair and climbed back on the bed. Chandler held the covers open for her and she got under them, drew them up to her breast and then started to take off her chemise. After she had struggled out of it she turned to him and saw him staring at her open-mouthed.

"Chandler …"

"You're … you're so beautiful …"

"What?!" She couldn't believe her ears.

He reached out to her and took up a lock of her hair. "Your hair … and your skin …" his gaze dropped lower and he slowly let go of her hair again and put his hand on her breast, his fingertips feeling for the nipple over the bra, then he bent forwards and started to kiss her all over her chest, her neck, the swell of her breasts. She put her arm around his shoulders and held him close, cradled him against her breasts, hardly noticing when he started to fumble at her bra clasp. Then it opened and her bra came away and she let it slide over her arms as he cupped her breasts in his hands and kissed and sucked the nipples. She gasped when she felt his tongue on them and sank back on the pillow moaning and shuddering. He got even closer and they pressed against each other, arms and legs entwining and rubbing against each other. Her hands moved down his back to his buttocks as if on their own accord and she pushed his boxers away and down over his thighs. The feel of his butt cheeks, so smooth and rounded under her hands excited here even more and when his erection poked against her belly again, she slowly moved her hand towards his groin. Just as her fingertips grazed across his pubic hair, he grabbed her hand and closed his own around it. For a moment she thought he didn't want her to touch him there, but then he drew her hand towards his penis until it her fingers came to lie across its length and when she gently closed her hand around it and rubbed it a little with her thumb he sighed deeply. She could feel how it thrilled him to have her touch it and stroke it with her fingertips, and she couldn't get over how soft and silky the skin over it felt, and how rubbery and flexible it still seemed inspite of the urgent vibrating hardness. But after a little while of this he drew in his breath sharply and winced a little.

"What is it?"

"Um – nothing, it's alright, I just don't want to – you know. Um, I guess you don't though. Well, lets say, I just need a minute or …"

"Or what?"

He gently took her hand away. "Or it might get a little messy."

"Oh. Are you okay again?"

"Oh yeah. No, don't worry. I got it. It's okay." He started to kiss her breasts again, gently cupping and stroking them at the same time. Now her pantyhose was definitely getting too hot for her under the covers and she started to push it down together with her panties. When she had gotten them halfway down her thighs, Chandler actually spared a hand to help her, though never taking his eyes of her breasts. Once they slid over her knees she used her feet to get them off altogether, and instead of taking his hand away again Chandler left it lying on her thigh, gently stroking over her skin as he let it slide up towards her hips. Then his fingers slid between her legs, rather hesitantly at first, then more determined while he raised himself a little to kiss her at the same time his fingertips touched her – down there, and her breath hitched. It's my vulva he's touching she thought all of a sudden. Not 'down there'. My mound. And now, oh god … For a breathless moment she hesitated, stiffening, then she was overwhelmed by it all, his breath on her face, his mouth on hers, his chesthair tickling her skin and his hand on her thigh where his fingers were slowly and gently exploring her depths, actually dipping into her now, into her vagina, and she sank back again and wrapped her arms around him, clutching him to her and kissing him back. When his fingertip touched a sensitive spot, it made her arch her back and clamp her thighs together.

"Aahh … oh god … no, don't stop, DON'T stop!"

He didn't stop, on the contrary, now his fingertip pressed down on that very spot again and then started to tease it a little, rub it, never letting off no matter how much she shuddered and squirmed. And screamed and moaned into their kiss, clawing at his shoulders and back. And he was as excited as her, his breath came in short bursts now and she could feel him shaking under her hands. Then he raised himself a little more and urgently pushed her thighs apart with his other hand, shifting until he was kneeling between her legs. She held him to her by his shoulders and arms, her hands clenching each time his fingers wriggled and curled, causing the most amazing sensations to run through her like ripples from a wave that was building up somewhere deep inside her. Supporting himself on one elbow he leaned forward over her and their lips met again. Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted that he still had his glasses on – and his hat for that matter - but couldn't really care, all her attention was riveted on what was happening between them, the amazing way his mouth felt on hers, his hips and buttocks under her calf as she hooked her leg over his lower back, his shoulders under her hands … And it still wasn't enough, she wanted more, more of him against her, on her … in her. So she pulled him down, stroking the length of his back and cupping his buttocks, moaning when she felt him settle carefully on her. Then he withdrew his fingers and grabbed her hand, guiding it to his penis. At first she thought that it wasn't as hard as it had been earlier, but as soon as she touched it, grazing gently across it with her nails, she felt it swelling and hardening again under her hand. Panting, she brought it closer until its tip touched her vulva and pressed softly against it, teasing and nudging. Chandler moaned and she felt him tremble, almost as much as her. Feeling as if in a dream she guided him further in and screamed softly when he nudged and pushed forward and deeper and then hesitated again.

"Mmm … oh god Monica, oh my … are you alright ..? Does it hurt?"

"No. No, it's alright, it's … so good … don't stop …"

And it didn't hurt in any way, except for a very slight friction as she felt herself giving way around him. She had expected it to hurt much more, and feel quite differently, nothing at all like this deliciously slow slippery advance, and it delighted and thrilled her to the core. It amazed her how everything seemed to fit, was perfect, how meant to be. Their bodies seemed to fuse together, complementing each other, every move answered and returned. She withdrew her hand and put it on his buttocks, holding him against her as he slowly pushed deeper into her, cradling him. He pushed his hands under her shoulders and neck and started to kiss her again as he slowly settled his weight on her, moving as if in slow motion, gently and without any urgency. Then only his hips continued to move while the rest of him kept still, and the way he did it, so languidly and almost dreamily at first and then a little faster, but still somewhat restrained and careful, in a slow drawn out rhythm, drove her crazy with lust. She felt electrified, tingling and elated, almost delirious. Somehow it seemed to her as if her body – and maybe his – had now taken over and managed to work this unbelievable act all on their own, operating on pure instinct, a deep primal subconscious knowledge of how this should be done, and she was only too glad to let it happen. When her hips started to strain against his it seemed to happen all by itself, without her consciously causing it, and it seemed totally natural and matter of course. Oh, how could she not have experienced this sooner? Why had nobody told her how wonderful this was? Why had she wasted so much time?

And as if that wasn't amazing enough, it kept getting more exciting, the ripples of lust spreading out in shorter intervals now, intensifying, building up to a huge wave that finally broke, sweeping through her, and that was when she cried out and kept screaming as she clawed his back and tightened her legs on his hips, hardly noticing that he had stopped and held himself still.

"Oh god, did you just …? Oh wow …"

"Don't stop …" she moaned. "For god's sake, don't stop …!"

"Okay … but … oh yeah, wow, oh, ummmm …" It took him a bit to get into his rhythm again and when he finally got going again she noticed that his movements had become more strained and that he was now panting in short hectic bursts. She wrapped her arms around his waist and clasped him to her, stroking his back and buttocks soothingly. It seemed to work, he relaxed and slowed down a little again, breathing deeply. Then came a deep shudder that went through him, a soft sigh and a last drawn out thrust, after which he slumped down over her, pressing his face against her shoulder. Only for a few moments though, then he pushed himself up again, still panting, and tried to move himself away. She held him tight, not wanting to lose him so quickly and he relented and stayed with her a little more, until they both had calmed somewhat again.

At last he heaved himself up again and she released him, though reluctantly, and drew up the covers that had slipped down and bundled up somewhere around their legs. He lay on his back beside her, still gasping for air, and then felt for her hand and squeezed it.

"Oh god, I can't believe this, did you really -?"

"What?"

"Did you come?"

"Oh. I guess. I must have. It was so …"

"Oh wow. Oh my god ...OH MY GOD ..!"

"I know!" She wanted to shout it out to the world, dance on the rooftops, scream it to the winds. And do it again of course, over and over, now that she had realized how wonderful it could be.

"I'll tell you something, we are going to do that again!"

He laughed breathlessly at that. "Oh - - okay!" And rolled over and on top of her in one swift movement, drowning her joyful squeal with his kiss.


	2. A friend in deed

When his beeper went off, Chandler groaned and tried to shut out the insistent noise by pulling the covers over his head. Then he realized that they weren't his covers and that he wasn't in his bed and furthermore that he wasn't alone. The last finally made him roll over, lean out of bed and grope for his pants to shut off the insistent signal, almost tumbling out of the unfamiliar bed in the process. When Monica stirred and shifted, turning her head to him he froze, still leaning halfway out of the bed.

"Mmh – huh?"

"Shshsh. It's okay. Just me. You know …" He sat up and clutched the covers to him. Monica screwed up her face and opened her eyes about halfway, then she started violently and grabbed at the bedclothes.

"Huh? What – oh! Oh. Oh my."

"Yeah … I know." He held up the beeper. "Sorry, Joey beeped me. I should have shut it off. Guess I'm just as bad as Dr. Ro – " he bit the name off, mentally kicking himself. "Um, so, how – how are you?"

Monica stared at him, her blue eyes widening. "Me? Oh … I'm ... I'm fine. Great. And you?"

"Fine. Really. I'm …" Just then the beeper went off again and he swore at it which made Monica giggle.

"Joey? What does he want so early in the morning?"

Chandler squinted at the beeper, realized he wasn't wearing his glasses and looked for them. They were on the nightstand, together with his lucky cap, and he remembered Monica taking them off him just before they went for round 3. He put on his glasses and sighed as the message came into focus. Code 5, which could mean anything from 'help me get to work in time' to 'get my date out of here in time'. Or just 'come and hang around'. There was no way of telling if it was really urgent or just Joey being bored.

"I guess I'd better go." He started to get out of bed, realized just in time that he was stark naked, and sank back again. "Unless you want me to stay?"

Her smile seemed a little forced to him, but then she was probably embarrassed too. After all she was just as naked as he was, and not at all used to this situation, again same as him. Naked. After a night of awesome, amazing, wonderful, hot sex. Sex. Actual sex. With him. Several times. He realized he was staring at her like an idiot, his eyes fixed on the bulges that were her breasts under the covers – oh, those unearthly beautiful breasts that he had named 'Awesome' and 'Amazing' after round 2 – and shook himself out of it. And then realized he hadn't heard a word she said. "Huh?"

"I said, if Joey needs you, you should go. I – I have a lot to do and –"

"Yeah. Right. Okay. Then … Take care, okay?" He leaned towards her a little, hesitated when he wasn't sure if kissing her was really the thing to do and then did it anyway, if only just a peck on her cheek. It made her smile and squeeze his shoulder affectionately. "Okay."

When she continued to watch him, he hesitated again. "Um, could you – you know …?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure." She actually put her hands on her eyes, like a child playing hide and seek.

"Okay, but no peeking!" That made her giggle while he got out of the bed and started to collect his clothes. The sight of his horrible old boxer pants made him wince. He really really really needed to stock up on underwear. And socks too.

As he put on his cap, ready to go, she took her hands from her face and raised herself up a little, still clutching the covers to her. "Chandler?"

"Yeah?" He came back to the bed, looking down at her, as she swallowed and blinked at him.

"I, um, I just wanted to say – last night was so - great."

"Yeah." He grinned widely. "Yeah, it was. Absolutely incredible."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah." He bent down and kissed her, this time on the lips, and then on her jawbone and neck, only letting off when she pushed him away.

"Ugh, you're so scratchy!"

.

Joey was already awake and fully dressed when he opened his apartment door. Instead of greeting him he held a finger to his lips and grinned conspiratorially.

"Pst! Come on in, I need to show you something. But quietly!" He led the way to the door to his living-room and opened it just a crack, letting Chandler look over his shoulder. There was a woman lying sprawled on the couch, fully dressed though looking rather rumpled and worse for wear. She looked vaguely familiar somehow –

"Wow, is that -?" Joey grinned triumphantly and nodded. "Rachel? What's the matter with her?"

Joey shrugged and closed the door softly. "Guess she had a little more than she could take. When I kissed her she started to throw up. And then she passed out."

"Oh. So you didn't …?"

"What? No! Not after that!"

Chandler smiled sympathetically while somewhere inside his head a part of him was dancing and shouting with glee. So Joey got none last night while he had scored? And Rachel, that snotty bitch with her overlong nails and overdone hair, who had so completely ignored him the day before and worse, patronized Monica, had thrown up and passed out? On Joey's (or as she pronounced it JOEY TRIBBI-AHHNI) couch? Wonders never ceased. How could he suddenly get so lucky?

"Anyway, I guess I better wait here until she wakes up, so you need to go to the hospital for me."

"To the hospital? Why?"

"For Phoebe, you know, to keep an eye on her. Ross thinks she wants to go on a lam."

"Okay, but visiting hours only start at ten."

"At ten? And what time is it n- oh. Um. Well, then you'll have to get me breakfast, I'm all out of things, and I can't leave –"

"Yeah I get it. Anything special that you need?"

Joey stared at him puzzled. "Dude! Don't you know what I need for breakfast?"

"Pretty much everything?" Joey grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

"That's my boy! And while you're at it, get a shower, okay? You look like you slept in your clothes!"

"Well, when you beeped me I thought it was urgent."

"Yeah, but still. And what's that smell …? Hey, it's like that stuff Monica uses. Did you steal her shampoo again?!"

.

When he got back to his own apartment, Chandler was relieved to find it empty. It looked like his crazy roommate had left sometime last night and since he never returned before it was dark outside there was a good chance he would not get to see him today at all. Which was a blessing. Over time it had gotten a little easier to live with Eddie, provided he could avoid him as much as possible. He had nearly perfected the art of avoiding him to the point where he didn't get to see him for weeks if he did it right.

In his room he went through his wardrobe to find some underwear that didn't look too shabby and a fresh t-shirt, then he headed off to the bathroom for a shower and a shave. When he checked his back in the mirror he was delighted to find a few scratches there, mostly on his shoulders. Actual scratches. From a woman. Wow. He had just about given up hope that he would ever make a woman scratch him during sex. Or that he ever would have sex, real sex, and also the kind of sex where there was scratching involved. Or hickeys. Or other marks of any kinds. He wished Joey could see this, and at the same time was glad that he hadn't. The whole thing was still so weird, he felt he really needed some time to get his head wrapped around it. He had done it with Monica, his bubbly, naïve, forever cheerful and sweet friend, his friendly neighbor whose fridge he was free to raid whenever he wanted, and who always seemed to be there for him, functioning as advisor, pal, companion and chef. Before last night he had never seen anything more in her than a friend. A person that it was nice to have around when he was lonely, someone to have fun with, laugh with, to help out and be helped out by, someone who was there for you. He had borrowed money from her more often than he cared to think about, spent more time in her kitchen than in his own flat, and always tried out every new joke that occurred to him on her first. But never in his wildest dreams had it occurred to him that she could be hot. Or a woman, a desirable woman at that.

And how funny was it actually that the fact she had been a virgin had so surprised him? Considering how long they had known each other he should have been very aware of her situation. Maybe he had blinded himself to that fact because it had been so inconceivable to him that anyone who knew him so well would consider him as a sex partner. Strange women, casual acquaintances and flirts, yes, in that field he had never given up hope though he kept failing to score no matter what he did. But with a friend – no, that was just too weird. Until last night.

Last night, when she had been so frustrated and worked up, when she had vented her feelings in that wail 'Chandler, I'm gonna die a virgin' and he had agreed to her proposal just like that, without thinking – just then at that moment the scales had started to drop from his eyes. And made her appear to him in a whole new light.

Yes, it had been weird. And strange and uncomfortable. A good deal embarrassing too, because he had been so nervous of screwing up and disappointing her. If she hadn't been so persistent he would have chickened out even before she did. But she had fought her way through her own shyness and understandable nervousness and then, from the moment they touched, gotten physically close, it had gotten easier. Remarkably so in fact. He still couldn't get over their first kiss. How in the world had he managed not to screw that up? But it had been so easy not to. Everything about her had excited him, made him forget his nervousness and sense of inferiority in his desire for her. It had felt so good to hold her in his arms, feel all of her pressed against him – and how great was it actually that there was so much of her to hold tight? – to kiss her and toy with her lips, breathe in her scent, touch that soft smooth skin … Oh that skin. When she had taken off her undershirt and there was only her bra left, the sight of her had taken his breath away. Her skin had been so white and totally unblemished, and with that black hair and red lips she had looked to him like Sleeping Beauty. An opulent, lush beauty at that, with those smooth soft shoulders and round full breasts … Those breasts especially had bewitched him. They had been just the right size, round and full enough to fit into his hands when he cupped them, not too big so they would be too heavy to handle, but not too small either. Her skin had smelled and tasted so good too, good enough to go crazy over. Just thinking about it made him get hard again. And then she had touched him too, caressed his penis which had almost made him come right there and then, much too soon, before they had even started, and how embarrassing would that have been? But luckily he had managed to get himself under control again, enough at least to enable him to take care of her in return, make out a little more. And oh my god how she had responded to it! To see her so aroused and ecstatic had swept his last concerns and worries away and then he had completely lost himself in her, in that awesome surreal ecstatic dream of their lovemaking. From the moment she had taken him in hand and guided him to her, into her, he had operated on pure instinct alone, caught in a dream, his rational thinking drowned out and numbed by the sheer excitement and lust.

And then she had come. Oh my god she had come, he had made her come, come out of her ears by the sound of it, come so hard she had screamed and bucked under him, actually clawed his back – he only regretted that there weren't more marks to see in other, more accessible places too. And then he had come too, with an unheard of intensity too, in a way he had never ever achieved on his own. It had swept through him like a tidal wave, leaving him empty and exhilarated and gasping for breath like a fish on the sand, and yet when she had been so eager and ecstatic about doing it again, the desire had returned like a flash, his weariness immediately forgotten, and he had wanted to do it again too. There and then, again, and again, and again … Until their strength had given out and they had fallen asleep almost on top of each other at last. And never stirred until that damn beeper went off.

And after all that, should he really have left her? Maybe not, maybe he should have ignored the beeper and stayed with her, talking it over. But he had left, and there was nothing he could do about it now. Except go to see her this afternoon, as soon as she was back from work, and tell her how he felt about the whole thing, what it had done for him. That it had been simply too amazing to just leave it like that, like it had really been about that one night only. That it was inconceivable that it should just end there and then. There could be a chance that it hadn't. Anything was possible, right? Especially with her. With them.

.

When he sauntered into her apartment later that afternoon, she was in the kitchen slicing bread and humming with it, the way she always did when she was in a good mood.

"Let me tell you about this chick I scored with last night! Oh no wait a minute that was you!"

Monica laughed and his heart leaped in his chest. "Hey, check me out, I'm a slut!"

Yeah right. But she did look adorable, especially in that red suit. How had he never seen that before?

"So you uh, want to do something tonight?" Like some more hot stuff, maybe some new hot stuff …

"Oh I can't. Dr. Roger is coming over again."

Oh. My. God. Dr. Roger. He was still in the picture? Why? Why? Why him? What had he done for her, except bore her to death and then leave her high and dry when she needed him?

"Oh. Oh right! Right! Because you're still seeing him and uh, he's a good guy. I mean, I remember a time when …" He let his head drop, snoring loudly and rolling his eyes, inwardly seething. Monica just looked puzzled.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah! Totally! Totally, and you?" He couldn't, wouldn't ever want her to think he was needy. Insecure. Whiny. No, anything but that.

"Great! It's so amazing! I mean, last time Dr. Roger came over, I was **so** nervous, but then after being with you I'm all like, "Can the doctor see me now?"

"I bet he can." And he would. As soon as he saw her he would notice how different she was, would sense how desirable and hot she had become all of a sudden. It would wake him up, get him interested and then he would take her for himself and she would be lost to him. Forever. And Monica would not even think about him again, would forget him, let him fade out of her life completely. And now she was still living out her fantasy of surprising Dr. Eternal Bore.

"Y'know, I don't have an appointment, but I sure could use a physical!" Haha, very funny. He'd laugh himself to death in a minute. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Oh yeah! Yeah! Don't worry about me, I'll be fine!" Then he remembered how Ross had dealt with a similar situation and tried out that wild Karate (or Kara-tay?!) move of his. "Hah-eeh!" And clenched his teeth when a muscle in his shoulder wouldn't cooperate. Monica was now frowning at him, and he gave her a deprecating smile. "I'll just practice some more Karatay ..."

.

A short while later he left again, mumbling something about Joey needing him after all, and then went to sit at the kitchen counter in his apartment, holding his head in his head and groaning. This was unbearable. That he should have found a girlfriend at last – yes, a girlfriend, he was sure all of a sudden that she had to be just that, that she was the one for him – only to lose her so abruptly again was simply too much. There had to be a way. Why couldn't he fight for her? What did the doctor have that he hadn't? Right, he was a doctor. And he was – nothing. A living joke. A good for nothing loser. But someone who cared for her, who wanted her, who would not leave her alone to hurry to the hospital to repair a damaged kidney, someone to whom his beeper summons wasn't more important than - - -

Wait a minute. There was an idea, right there. Hadn't the good doctor shown them how his beeper worked the other day, including a long, self-important lecture about all the codes he'd thought up, and how proud he was about his beeper handle '24/7Roger'? Oh wow, and who would have thought that Joey's beeper handle "Dr. Drake" would come in really useful one day?!

.

When he heard the doctor rush out of the apartment again, he gave it another five minutes to make sure he wouldn't come back, then took a deep breath and opened the door of apartment 20, cautiously sticking his head in. Monica was just starting to blow out the candles she had distributed all over the room. A shame really about them, the soft candle light looked really nice.

"Okay to come in?"

She looked like she wanted to kick something. Or someone. "Yeah, come on, eat, whatever you want. Dr. Roger got beeped again."

Alright here goes … "Yeah I know, guess who beeped him?"

"What?!"

"I'm the ruptured spleen." he raised his hand and just couldn't suppress a fake laugh. Code 33 that had been, the only one he could remember from Dr. Roger's endless lecture. Monica stared at him.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because you shouldn't be with him." He shifted uneasily on his feet, only too aware of the scrutinizing she was giving him, but held his ground. "You should be with me."

There, he'd said it, and it was true. He'd never meant anything as much as this before. He really wanted her. She was everything he could ever desire, everything he could ask for. And she must have seen it on his face because she didn't appear angry in any way. Or even much surprised. Just somehow – puzzled? Unbelieving?

"Really?"

"Yeah! When you were talking about Roger, that was killing me! Look, things like last night they don't just happen. You know? Or at least not to me."

And not to her either, he was sure of that.

"And with the other two women – " oh shoot, wrong number, and she had caught on immediately too, but never mind "- in the morning you know, I was just lying there and I couldn't wait to just go hang out with my friends, but with you I was, you know, already with a friend."

Her face softened at that and he thought he saw pity in her eyes as well as understanding.

"Chandler!" Oh yeah, now she would be like, oh I like you too but not that way, can't we stay friends, should we really risk our friendship for this … He stepped back from her and turned away a little, fighting against his self-loathing with everything he could muster.

"I know you probably don't want to go out with me, because I make too many jokes and I've never been in a serious relationship and I guess I'm not technically a 'doctor'…"

There was more, but he never got to say it because Monica was suddenly running at him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him hard on the mouth. For a moment the world seemed to shift around him, the very floor beneath his feet wobbling. Pure instinct made him hold her against him and then everything steadied again as he closed his eyes and kissed her back as hard as he could, all his anxieties and self-hate dropping away. Then there was only her mouth on his, the feel of her body pressing against his, and her heartbeat in his ears – or maybe it was his own. Or both of theirs. After what seemed like an eternity they had to come up for air again and Monica held herself a little away to look at him searchingly, with a knowing smile.

"There was just one woman, wasn't there?"

Actually that made more sense, but unfortunately it wasn't quite the truth.

"No, there were two." He winked at her and she laughed.

"Including me?"

"Oh yeah." As she squealed with delight he pulled her close again, claiming her lips once more. When he slid his hand under her jacket and up her back, she moaned into the kiss and clutched him even harder. He was already trying to steer her into the direction of the bedroom when she broke the kiss again to look at him challengingly, narrowing her eyes.

"So what was she like?"

"Who?"

"That – first woman."

"Oh. Um, she was – it's a long story."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes. It really needs a different – setting, you know. Something more comfortable."

For a moment she stared hard at him, then she giggled.

"Okay … so let's get comfortable then. Do you want to eat first?"

"I want you." He kissed her again and held her tight until she relaxed against him.

"Mmmh … mmmh … yes … oh god … At least let me – the candles, I can't …"

"Yeah. Right. Actually –" he released her and went to the door, turning the key and putting on the chain too for good measure. "Just in case the Doctor turns up again …" That made her laugh again, and they hurried to blow out the candles and cover up the food. Then they met at her bedroom door and kissed again as she turned off the light. As soon as they were in the room he shut the door behind them securely and took her in his arms again. Again there was only the light from the streetlamp illuminating the room, but after a moment she released him again and went to her night-stand to light a candle. Obviously she had placed it there earlier in preparation for her seduction of Dr. Roger, and he felt a slight pang of jealousy again, but shook it off impatiently. Monica came back to him, smiling widely and holding out her arms, and before he knew it they were in each other's arms, sinking down on the bed and moaning. He fumbled the buttons of her jacket open and she pushed up his sweater and t-shirt, and after they had both wriggled out of those garments they grabbed at each other hungrily once more. When he finally figured out that her bra opened in front, he got it open and immediately claimed her breasts, pressing his face against them and stroking them with a deep content. Monica laughed softly, her breathing getting noticeably harder now. She took off his cap and then his glasses, putting them carefully on the night-stand and then drew his head down again, cradling him against her breasts. When he started to suck and lick her nipples she squirmed and moaned, clutching his shoulders and running her fingers through his hair. Before long he got her pants off her and let her push and tug down his and fondle him while he got between her legs to take care of her even though he hardly felt able to hold back any more. Once more her body, her scent and taste, the feel of her seemed to induce a kind of dreamlike frenzy that claimed all his senses. Then she pulled at him, drawing him up and they pressed together and kissed deeply as he entered her, their arms and legs wrapped around each other, rolling and writhing on the bed that rattled and creaked alarmingly beneath them.

.

Much later, when they had finally finished – for the time being - and settled under the covers, holding each other and starting to get their breaths back, she raised her eyes to his, frowning a little.

"Chandler …?"

"Mmmmmh ….?"

"Do you really want me to be your girlfriend?"

"That depends. Do you really want me to be your boyfriend?"

Her face broke into a smile. "Oh my god, of course! I just thought –"

"What?"

"Well, this morning, when we got up I thought about how we had agreed it was only for one night, you know, just a friend helping a friend … and that you wouldn't want to, you know, go on."

"What? Of course I did. Why shouldn't I want to go on? You're the best thing that ever happened to me. But I thought you wanted to be with Dr. Roger."

She winced. "Yeah, that was … stupid. I think I just wanted to sort of show off to him."

"Well, I hope he was suitably impressed?"

She grimaced. "Not really. When I served up the risotto, it reminded him of the kidney he took out this morning. Ugh."

"Ew. Oh god. Well, I hope we're cured of him now … Seriously, I think we should give it a shot. This is so good. So much better than – well, everything else really."

She laughed. "But you've never been in a relationship before."

"So? Neither have you. You've got to start sometime. Why not now?"

"Yeah … why not! Oh my, I've finally got a boyfriend. This is so amazing! What about the others?"

"The others? Don't you think we should do this on our own?"

She cuffed him playfully. "I mean, do we tell them?"

"I guess so, sure. I mean it's not as if they'll catch on by themselves anytime soon. This morning Joey thought I had stolen your shampoo –"

"Oh, that was you? I thought it was Phoebe!"

.

And then they were all together again, sitting on the big orange couch in Central Perk. All except for Phoebe actually, who after her second heart attack had finally seen reason and was trying her hand at her old game of singing and accompanying herself on her old weathered guitar. Her song though told him and anyone who cared enough to listen that she still harbored a little grudge.

 _It only takes two heart attacks to finally make you see…  
One of them won't do it, but the second one will set you free…  
Tell all your hate and anger, it's time to say good-bye…  
And that is just what I will do, soon as those bastards I work for die!  
La, la-la-la, la-la-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la…_

And she wasn't the only one with a grudge or so it seemed to him as he looked around him. Joey was still upset because Phoebe had managed to get out of the hospital right under his nose, and maybe because Rachel had apparently decided that an affair with a famous actor wouldn't solve her problems and moreover meant too much bad publicity or even worse, losing alimony. Now she sat next to Ross, as fellow new members of the divorce club, and it was almost funny how similar their expressions looked as they both glumly contemplated their failed marriages. Except for Monica and himself everybody was in a bad mood. And how awesome was it that the two of them, the eternal losers, were finally coming out ahead? Both of them together? And that they were together? And everything looked up?

He tightened his arm around Monica's shoulders and kissed her on her hair. Absolutely awesome. Top of the world awesome.

And he meant to keep it that way. That was just what he would do.

.

.

.

 _A/N: When I started to write this I wasn't sure if I would or even could take it further than the episode, but since then the ideas have been coming. Some of them I already hinted at in this chapter, and in my upcoming vacation I'll try to get those and the others still in my head in line and brought into shape. And of course ideas for the next updates of my other stories. Which won't happen for 2 – 3 weeks unfortunately, since I'll only have my phone with me, but there will be updates after. That's a promise._

 _And a big thank you to everybody for all your amazing reviews and support!_


	3. A friend in trouble

How could this not be a dream?

It was all so unbelievable. Two days ago she had been a thirty-year old virgin. A thirty-year old overweight – okay, seriously overweight – oh what the hell, fat - virgin. Who couldn't imagine ever being hot and desirable enough for a man to want her, to find her interesting enough to want to be with her, let alone have sex with her. It had gotten more difficult to imagine as the years went by and by the time she had gotten thirty it had almost appeared to be totally illusionary for her.

And just when she really had been convinced that it was hopeless, that she would never be able to move forward, get her own, would in fact remain a virgin forever, it had happened. Chandler had happened, just like that. And not only had he relieved her of her virginity in the most amazing undreamt of way possible, he had also come back to her the next day and declared his desire for more. For more sex, for more of her, even for her to be his girlfriend. Because they had been friends for so long, it had never occurred to her that their night, as amazing as it was, could lead to more. After all, they had agreed before that it would be just for that one time, a friend helping a friend. She couldn't even imagine him wanting more than that, for all she knew about him he wasn't the type to want a relationship, commitment to someone, a partnership. But it turned out he did and she now had a boyfriend on top of it all.

So two days ago she had still been a virgin, and now she had already spent two nights with a man. Two whole nights. Making out with him, having sex, cuddling, talking, having more sex, spooning, falling asleep and waking up again with him. And this time, on the second morning, he had stayed on for breakfast, showering at her place too. He had even tried to get her to shower with him, but she had drawn the line there – though she had been tempted, it had somehow seemed too early for them to do that. She had trouble enough adapting to the new situation as it was. It was all so exhilarating and confusing. And Chandler hadn't insisted, but just fetched his shower things and his razor – narrowly avoiding his crazy roommate as he told her later – and then let her watch him shave instead. And even offered to make pancakes afterwards.

At breakfast they had made plans – plans, for the first time in her life she had planned her day with her boyfriend! – to meet at Central Perk after she had finished work and have coffee there. Or dinner somewhere else. Or skip everything and just return home for dessert in advance. Until then he wanted to do some writing and run some errands for Joey, and she needed to visit Phoebe at the hospital before work, so they were in perfect agreement. After he had finally left – not without a lot more cuddling and kissing – she closed the door of her apartment behind him and leaned against it with a deep contented sigh. It was all just too good to be true. He had even helped with the washing up. True, he had done that before – it wasn't the first time actually he had breakfasted with her or even showered at her place, let alone spent the night on her couch when his roommate refused to let him in – but never as her boyfriend, never with all that kissing and cuddling and tenderness. It was so crazy and so wonderful and so, so right.

She finally had a boyfriend.

A boyfriend who was perfect for her.

Oh yes, it was true, he was no catch, anything but. He was no doctor, or anything like that. Or especially handsome. Though he could look quite nice if he took the trouble, most of the times he seemed rather ordinary, not remarkable in any way. Which was fine with her. Ordinary she could handle.

Especially since as soon as he was with her, when they were together, touching, kissing, making love … it was like the earth moving and the angels singing, the most wonderful experience she ever had, and it quite looked as if it wasn't going to end anytime soon. It was almost getting too much for her.

All that accumulated joy in her demanded an outlet. She felt that if she didn't get to tell someone everything that had happened she would surely burst. Her life had been changed, turned upside down and around, and everything looked so bright and promising all of a sudden. Just before she took the plunge, all she had wanted really was experience, to take a step forward in her life, extend her boundaries. But now she had achieved so much more.

But who could she tell really? Not Rachel. Not Joey. Especially not her brother or – god forbid – her mother. That left only Phoebe, but she wasn't sure about her either. True, the two heart attacks seemed to have mellowed her a little, but she was not sure how much this would affect her opinion about Chandler and her new situation. But it didn't matter really. Nothing mattered anymore now. She was finally happy. So when she went to the hospital to see how Phoebe fared she made no effort at all to hide her feelings from her, and Phoebe, though still weakened and grumpy, had no trouble catching on.

"What's up with you? Is it your birthday? It is, isn't it? Why hasn't anybody told me? I'm going –"

"Relax, Phoebe, it's not my birthday. I'm just – happy."

Phoebe narrowed her eyes at her. "Happy? But you're Monica. You're always happy. It must be more than that."

Monica plopped down on her hospital bed and grinned smugly. "Maybe."

"Hmmm. Did you lose another pound?"

"What? No! Um, that is, I don't know, I didn't check –"

Phoebe looked alarmed. "You didn't? You always do! Well, what happened then? Oohh, don't tell me. You fed Dr. Roger oysters and he shut off his beeper?"

"No. As if he'd ever turn off his beeper! No, I'm – I'm finished with him."

"Oh! Really! Oh, good for you! I never liked him. But if not him, then who? Oh, oh, did you do it with someone?"

Monica pushed her fist in the air, grinning triumphantly. "Yes!"

"Wow. That's … wonderful. Oooooh, who was it? Joey?"

"What? Joey? No, he would never do it with me."

"Why not? He'd do it with anybody. You just have to give him a sandwich – okay, maybe two sandwiches. But then, no problem."

"Well, it wasn't Joey. It was Chandler."

Phoebe stared. "Chandler?!"

"Yes, Chandler."

"But … But he's – such –"

"What?"

Phoebe shrugged helplessly. "He's such a wuss! He – hey, are you sure it was him?"

"PHOEBE! Yes, of course I'm sure. And for your information, he was great. It was … it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I can't tell you how happy I am!"

Phoebe only shook her head. "Okay, Chandler then. But still … I really don't see it. I can't imagine that he's any good."

"Oh, believe me, he is."

"How? How good?"

"Well …" Monica looked around to check that no one was listening, then she bent slightly forward closer to Phoebe. "When we did it the first time, I came."

"Oh." Phoebe looked somewhat disconcerted. "Really? That's – quite a feat."

"And I've had an orgasm every single time after that too."

"Wow. Well, good for you! But how strange too! I thought he was bound to screw it up for sure."

"Well, he didn't. And he won't. I won't let him. He's my boyfriend now."

Phoebe opened her mouth and shut it again, shrugging resignedly. "Yeah, well I guess, Chandler as boyfriend is better than no boyfriend at all. Though I still think you could have done better."

"How? With Dr. Roger? At least Chandler cares about me. He doesn't rush off in the middle of dinner just because he gets beeped by the hospital. And he's not boring."

"Not to you. No, it's okay, I'm sorry. Obviously he's a better choice for you. I hope you'll be happy with him. So tell me, how often did you do it?"

"Phoebe!" She put her hand to her mouth and giggled. "Three times in the first night, and four times last night."

"Seven times? Wow. You had enough condoms for that?"

"Condoms - - - ?!" Monica's eyes widened.

"Yes, condoms. You did use protection, didn't you?"

"Oh - yes, of course we did. Yes, we used condoms. Actually I had bought some, for Dr. Roger – but then he got beeped, and Chandler turned up, and yes, he used them – we used them." She realized that she was babbling and desperately tried to find a distraction, to change the subject, and also to quell that sudden sinking feeling, the growing uneasiness.

"Well that's fine then." To her huge relief Phoebe didn't seem that much interested anymore. "When I get out, I'll ask my friend Steve. He has a drugstore. But oh, shoot, he's a client, not a friend. He probably lost money through me, and killed himself." She sighed. "So no. Oh, this is getting ridiculous!"

"Don't worry, Phoebe, we'll manage. I can take care of it. Now, when will you get out again?"

Her shoulders slumped again. "I have no idea. This morning the doctor said I should have a pacemaker. Can you imagine?"

"Well, after two heart attacks …"

"Well, we'll see about that! I won't let them stick something in my chest! So I guess I'll be a while yet – um, can you get me my guitar?"

"Your guitar?"

"Yes, I thought of a song, and I need to write it down before I forget it."

"Can't you do it without your guitar?"

"Monica, you know I can't write music! I need my guitar for it."

Monica couldn't resist. "Your guitar can write music?"

Phoebe stared at her. "What's the matter with you?"

"Sorry. Yes, I'll get it for you. No problem. Are you really going to play again?"

Phoebe shrugged. "Maybe. I have to do something. At least this way I can put everything that makes me mad into a song and no one will be able to sue me."

"How can they not sue you?"

"Oh, they won't. You'll see. Oh, you have to leave now, it's time for the doctor's round. You're sure you don't want me to get you another doctor?"

"Phoebe! No, I've had enough of doctors. Forever!"

"Alright, alright, just asking. Calm down!"

But she couldn't calm down. Phoebe's mentioning of the condoms had thoroughly upset her, and by the time she arrived at the lobby again, she was close to panicking.

They had totally forgotten about the condoms. She had actually bought them herself, first agonizing over the wide range of selections on the shelf in the drugstore and then getting absurdly embarrassed about going to the checkout with just the box of condoms and nothing else. She had hesitated for what seemed like hours, fighting with herself whether to add some other purchase she didn't really need just so they wouldn't be so obvious and then, just when she'd nerved herself to go through with it, she'd turned back because the cashier was male, and this was hard enough without the added embarrassment of a man noticing that she had bought condoms. For a moment she had even considered stealing them. But just as that thought had entered her brain she at last got a grip on herself, realizing how ridiculous this was getting. After all what could happen? Nobody knew her at this drugstore that she had chosen for exact that reason, and she would never need to return to it. Still she waited a bit longer until the cashier was relieved by a female colleague, and then marched determinedly to the checkout with her box of condoms, her teeth clenched and breathing as deeply and regularly as possible.

And nothing had happened. The cashier had been much too preoccupied with chatting with a fellow employee at a nearby shelf to even look at the box as she drew it across the scanner and took the money from her. And then it was over and she was standing outside the drugstore quickly stuffing the box into her purse, a little ashamed and above all, vastly relieved.

And now, after all that hassle and anxiety, she had totally forgotten to use the things, or rather to get him to use them. It was really idiotic. And even worse, the box was actually still in her purse.

So what now? She had to think, but right now she was too nervous and confused to think clearly. She needed to calm down, to get herself under control, think about her next move. Maybe it was all false alarm. But maybe not. She would know eventually and there wasn't a lot of things she could do until then.

But of course one of those few things included talking to Chandler.

.

It seemed like an eternity had passed until she was finally finished with work and caught a subway home. When she entered the Perk and looked around for Chandler, she almost panicked because she couldn't find him right away and there were strangers sitting on 'their' couch. But then she heard him calling out behind her and found that he was sitting in one of the window seats instead, with his laptop before him on the table, and grinning broadly at her. At the sight of him her heart almost seemed to twist inside her chest and she got a funny feeling in her stomach. The latter could be a result of having eaten next to nothing all day, which it certainly wasn't used to. But she had simply been too excited to eat much during the last two days. And still was.

As she got on the seat beside him he leaned forward to kiss her and she was amazed at how natural it already felt, although she still had to check if there really was no one they knew around to observe them, before she kissed him back. When she caught herself at it, she giggled. What did it matter if anyone saw them? There was no reason to keep their relationship secret. In fact, the sooner it was out in the open the better, so everybody could get used to it and they could find out in peace what it meant to be in a relationship. To be together. As a couple.

And maybe as parents …?

"Hey …" he said. "How's my favorite dreamgirl?" That made her blush and cuff him.

"Stop it!" But it did feel so great. Oh, why had she missed out on this for so long?

"Can I get you something?" He winked at her. "Hazelnut latte?!"

"Yes – no, actually … um –"

He had already scooted to the edge of the seat and now stopped, frowning at her. "Are you okay?"

"Of course! I'm fine! It's just …" she swallowed desperately. "I don't know how – we have to talk."

"Uh-oh." His face fell as he sank back on the seat, and she saw the corners of his mouth turning down and his eyes widening behind the glasses. "Is it – did Dr. Roger -?"

"WHAT?"

"Well, you know, did he call? Do you want to be with him?"

"What? Of course not! Chandler, that's crazy! I haven't even heard from him. And I don't want him. Never again."

He closed his eyes with relief. "Oh thank god. I really thought this was one of those 'you'll always be my friend – but …' talks."

"No. Of course not. We just started – how can you even think this? Don't you know me by now?"

He opened his eyes again and frowned at her.

"Well, yes and no. It's like you're two persons now. In my head, I mean –" he gesticulated helplessly, nearly swiping the little flower vase from the table. "There's my friend Monica, you know, my neighbor, my college roomie's sister – and there's you, my new hot girlfriend."

That made her blush even harder. "CHANDLER! Stop it!"

"Why? What?"

"Because – " she looked around helplessly and shook her head. "It's … I'm not hot."

Chandler pushed back his glasses and made a great show of looking her up and down, pursing his mouth.

"Hmmm, let's see … yup … yes … okay … yes, no doubt about it. You are hot."

She let out an exasperated sigh. "Chandler, please …"

"Okay then. If it's not about Dr. Boring, then who?"

"Not who. There's no who." She took a deep breath. "It's about us. We – there's something we forgot."

"Forgot? What? Oh, you mean I should have asked your brother for his permission to do you?"

When she just looked at him, he fell silent and almost visibly pulled himself together. Monica bit her lip and put her purse on the table to get out the box of condoms.

"We forgot these." Her voice shook on the last word and she swallowed nervously. Chandler stared at the box, frowning, then his mouth slowly dropped open.

"Oh my god." His voice sounded different all of a sudden, almost toneless, and it sent a shiver down her spine. Serious Chandler seemed really weird. "Oh god –" he raised his hand to his head to run it through his hair, nearly dislodging his cap in the process. "I'm so sorry. I should have – I really should have thought of that."

"It's my fault too. I actually bought them myself – it's so stupid of me."

"Oh, don't say that! It's totally my fault. I'm the guy, and guys are supposed to have condoms. Oh, actually I've got one too, and I totally forgot about that." He dug out his wallet from his back pocket. "See? I got that just in case I'd score – to be prepared. And then, the one time I should have used it, I forgot. How idiotic is that?"

"Ugh, how long has that been in there?" The shape of the condom had over time imprinted itself on the wallet and when Chandler tried to get it out, the wrapping almost crumbled under his fingers.

"Ugh, no, please leave it – okay, we can't change it anyway. It happened. The question is, what now?"

"I think the question is rather: did you get pregnant?"

She stared at him, opening her mouth to reply only to shut it again and shrug helplessly.

"I – I don't know. How could I? I don't feel pregnant."

"Oh. How does being pregnant feel?"

"How should I know?" Suddenly she felt close to tears. Chandler sighed deeply and reached out for her, drawing her to him.

"Shsh. It's okay. We'll figure it out. Shshsh … there. Okay, you can use my shirt, it's not been cried on yet today …" That made her giggle through her tears, and after she'd blown her nose she actually felt better, and sat up again.

"Figure it out how?"

He shrugged. "Well, when was your last period?"

"My – oh. Um. I think … No … I can't remember!"

"Hey. Hey, it's okay, don't worry. Just relax. Here, I'll go get us coffee, and then we'll think about it together. Okay?"

She nodded dumbly and watched him get up and make his way through the crowded café to the counter, noticing everything about him as if she was suddenly looking at him through a magnifying glass. There was a hole in his shirt just above his hip, and a stain on the knee of his jeans. She hoped he would let her take care of him now – some men were funny about that, as if they actually preferred to look sloppy. Chandler had never seemed to care about his appearance, about how immature and deadbeat the cap and sneakers he wore all the time actually made him look. She would have to try to convince him that it was okay to change one's style every now and then, depending on the occasion, and that he actually looked quite good without the cap. And the glasses – it was a shame how they hid his eyes which actually looked so nice. If he wore contacts for instance … Oh god, here she was, his girlfriend of hardly two days and already wanting to change him, improve his looks. Right now there were far more important matters to take care of.

By the time he returned with their coffees, she had gotten her pocket calendar out to pore over last month's entries. Unfortunately there weren't that many of them.

"Any luck?"

"No … well, I don't know. Here's the lunch with my mother, and I know I wasn't on my period then, but I really can't remember if I had it before or after that …"

"Let me see … here, what's that?"

"Laundry. And that's the week when I had the late shift …"

"Ah. And here? 7 p.m./R.?"

"That's – um, dinner with Roger – but he couldn't make it. Actually I was glad he cancelled, because I had cr- … oh my god! I had cramps!"

"Um, so?" Then his eyes widened. "Oh, you mean cramps? As in –"

"Yes! My period! I had my period!" Only when he shushed her and looked about him to see if anybody had heard, she realized that she had almost been screaming and blushed. Fortunately nobody seemed to have noticed.

"Okay, so when was this? What's today?"

"The 22th. And this was … the fifth. Um. I think I got it the day before, so 18 days ago – 19, counting this one. That's good, isn't it?"

"You have to deduct two days" he pointed out. "So it was 16 days before we did it."

"Oh. Is that enough?"

"Maybe. But how should I know?"

She sighed deeply. "I know. So that doesn't help us much either. Oh god, I really wish there was something we could do, like a test or – oh, a test!"

"A pregnancy test" he breathed. "Of course!"

"I'll buy one tomorrow –"

"No, no. You already got the condoms. Let me do that."

"Really? Won't it be … awkward?"

He hesitated and then shook his head. "Of course it will. Awkward is my middle name. But it's the least I can do."

"Aw, that's so sweet!" She threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him from his seat. He smiled and pulled her close, patting her soothingly on the back.

"Okay then! Is there anything else I can get while I'm at it? You know, like maybe pickles? Ice cream? … ouch."

.

Later that evening, after they had returned to her apartment, they found themselves alone once more. Joey had a date and Ross had left her a message that he was meeting Rachel somewhere to help her find a divorce lawyer and instructing her not to tell Carole that if she should call. Or tell her, but not mention the lawyer. Or Rachel. (At that she had just rolled her eyes.) Phoebe was still in the hospital, so they had the apartment to themselves to do as they pleased. Which they did, watching TV and making out on the couch, then eating dinner and making out some more. Everything could have been just perfect, if that pregnancy scare hadn't hung over them like a dark cloud the whole time.

"Mon, it's no use worrying about it …"

"I'm not. I'm not worried."

"Yes you are. You're not eating, which means you're worried. Seriously worried I'd say."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess I'm just not hungry –"

"You? You're not hungry? Now you're scaring me."

"Stop it! Okay, maybe you're right. I just – I can't help thinking about it."

"I know. Me too." He reached out and put his arms around her. "It's going to be okay."

"It's – it's just so strange, you know? Two days ago I thought I would die a virgin, and now I'm worried that I might be pregnant."

"Yeah, you know, two days ago I thought I'd never score again and now I'm worried that I could have knocked you up. Great score really." That actually made her laugh and tighten her arms around him. He stroked her hair and kissed her on the temple, then let his lips wander over her face down to her neck while she pressed her head against his shoulder.

"Chandler? Have you told anyone yet – about us?"

"Um, no, I haven't seen any of the guys today. Have you?"

"Yes, I told Phoebe. She was – surprised. To say the least."

He grinned. "Did she believe you?"

"Not at first. Until I made her. She actually reminded me of the condoms – no, she doesn't know, it was just something she said."

"Ah. Well, I suppose it'll come out sooner or later anyway."

"You think?"

"If you're pregnant, something will definitely come out in nine months or so."

"Oh god." She winced. "Chandler, I can't – I really can't imagine being pregnant. It's so – weird."

"I know."

"How do you know?"

"I mean, I can't imagine being a father. Do you see me changing diapers and going to parents-teacher-meetings?"

"Well … I couldn't see you as my boyfriend either, and now –"

"Yeah, well, maybe. I don't know really. You're right, it's weird."

She sighed deeply. "It's just too soon. I always wanted to have a baby, but not … not like this."

"Like what then? By immaculate conception? From a sperm bank?"

"No! I wanted a family first and then have it when I was ready for it." She turned to him. "What about you?"

"I never thought about it before" he admitted. "Me having a baby … I thought that would only happen to other people. You know, like Ross having Ben. That was pretty cool, but … so not me."

When she frowned at him, he shrugged. "But hey, what do you know? Our baby's going to be totally different. We'll probably screw everything up – okay, I'll probably screw everything up and you'll fix it again. I'll be a lousy father and you'll be a wonderful mother and together we might just manage to do right by it." He drew her closer to him. "And who knows, maybe you're not pregnant after all. Let's not get all worked up before we know for sure."

She leaned against him and closed her eyes. "Okay. You're right. It's just ..."

"I know. "

"Um, Chandler …?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you … sleepy?"

He smiled. "Thank god, I thought you'd never ask!"

"Oh good. You know, I've always wanted to know how condoms actually work."

"Really? Me too."

"Oh. You mean, you don't know? Have you never …?"

He sighed deeply. "Pathetic, isn't it? No, but I've always wanted to. It is a serious knowledge gap you know. But I guess it's not exactly rocket science."

She considered and then brightened suddenly. "Oooh, maybe there are instructions on the box …?"


	4. A friend revealed

It was morning again, the morning after the third night they'd spent together, and for a good while after he'd woken up Chandler just remained lying on his side, perfectly content to just watch Monica sleep. She was lying on her back with her face turned a little to the side facing him, and in the fuzzy light of morning he could just about discern, even without his glasses, how her eye balls kept moving under the lids, telling him that she was dreaming. Her dark hair was spread all over the pillow with some tendrils only inches away from his face. The cover had somehow slipped down again during the night and exposed one of her breasts almost to the nipple, and though it made him want to kiss and caress it and the rest of her too, he was still too lazy to make a move, and also too fascinated by the way her breathing made her chest and the edge of the cover rise and sink gently, and how perfect the contrast between the dark strands of hair and the light soft skin appeared in the half lightened room. It felt simply wonderful and out of this world fantastic to just be there, warm and snug in this nice bed, rested and awake, but also so relaxed and lazy, and maybe just a little horny too – just looking at that nipple under the edge of the cover put a major boost on his morning wood. But it really seemed a shame to wake her up while she was sleeping so peacefully and engage in yet another round of sweet, urgent love-making when they had so much time. And still some condoms left too. True, it probably wasn't all that early still - he couldn't tell the exact time it was without turning around and craning his head – but neither of them had to get up early this day and even if they had, there was still so much time they could and would spend together. Enough time to make this watching her sleep so worth his while. And thinking about how lucky he was. So lucky to be here, in her bed, in her nice, cozy apartment, and not in his own bed with the lumpy mattress and scratchy sheet, forever startled from sleep by the sound of the toilet flush in the apartment above his (whose inhabitant apparently suffered from incontinence and/or enlarged prostate) and other sounds like footsteps and creaking doors, or even worse, from some sound in his own apartment that told him his crazy roommate had returned and was searching all the rooms for evidence that someone had broken in in his absence and gone through his things. Whenever this happened, Chandler had to force himself just to lie there feigning sleep while Eddie searched his room too. Locking the door was no use, since he had a key and changing the lock or putting on the bolt would just convince his roommate that something was wrong and he was in some danger or worse, hiding something. It was much easier to just submit to the search and suffer through it until Eddie was finished. Over time he had gotten used it, just as to everything else, and also quite good at ignoring his roommate's antics too, though they still continued to rankle him. But he just didn't see any way out of this strange situation and had to admit that he was too lazy to even consider doing anything about it. At least Eddie had pretty much stopped watching him sleep. That had to count for something, right?

Though now, while he was watching Monica sleep, he had to admit that there was something to be said for it. Above all it was so peaceful to just lie there and wonder what she was dreaming that made her eyes move so rapidly, if she would continue to breathe through her nose like that or if her mouth would start to open a little now, to allow her to breathe more deeply, if she would even start to snore a little -

"Monica? Yoohoo, Monica, I'm baaack!"

As Chandler froze with shock, he saw Monica's eyes fly wide open just a second before she almost bounced upright in the bed and looked around her wild-eyed, clutching the covers to her. Then she jumped off the bed so violently the springs creaked in loud protest, and ran out of the bedroom, barely taking the time to grab her bathrobe and belt it around her. For a long moment Chandler just lay there uncomprehendingly, until it finally dawned on him that it had been Phoebe calling out for Monica from the living room … wait though, Phoebe? But she was –

"Phoebe! What are you doing here? Did they discharge you from the hospital?"

"Ha! No, I got away. Finally! It was easy though, the security there is really crap."

"But Pheebs, you're not well yet! What if you have another heart attack?"

"But I couldn't take it anymore! I had to get away before they got to me there!"

"Who?"

"Who? My bosses! Or my clients! The IRS for all I know! They're after me!"

Oh good lord. Phoebe in full swing that early in the morning – oh shoot, was it 9.30 a.m. already? – okay, just morning then – wasn't something he should let Monica face on her own, so he groped for his glasses and started looking for his boxers.

"Phoebe that's – that's so - why would they be after you?"

"Because I lost 13 million dollars? And if it's not them, then it's my clients! Anyway, I had to leave. And I can't stay here either."

"What?"

"Well, if I stay here, they'll get to me here, won't they?"

"Oh. But where will you go?"

"I don't know yet. I'll figure it out. But what about you? Why aren't you up yet?"

"Well … You see, we –"

"We? Oh, I forgot, you have a boyfriend now. Oh, and there he is! Wow, nice boxers!"

Since they were indeed his best pair, Chandler decided to take that remark as a compliment or at least let it slide off him while he put his arm around Monica.

"And a good morning to you! Are you sure you're okay? Hadn't you better sit down, get some rest?"

"No time for this, they're after me! I just need to – oh no, they're here already! Quick, I need to hide!"

For a moment it really seemed as if she was right, there were hurried footsteps coming up the stairs and to the door, and Chandler braced himself while Monica squeaked and tried to hide behind him, desperately clawing at her bathrobe. Then the door was thrown open and Ross and Joey burst in, just as Phoebe dived behind the easy chair.

"Phoebe! Is she here? Pheebs? Oh – Monica, what …?"

"Hey dude, what are you doing here?"

"Morning everybody! Nice day, isn't it?"

"Hi Ross. What's up, bro? Hi Joey. What a nice surprise! Won't you come in?" Monica tried her best to appear nonchalant, but there was a decided edge to her voice and Chandler couldn't help noticing that she kept fumbling at her bathrobe nervously. While her brother stared at her confusedly, Joey recovered more quickly.

"Erm, yes, we're looking for Phoebe, is she here?"

"Um …" out of the corner of his eye he saw Phoebe gesticulating wildly at him "ah, why, isn't she at the hospital?"

"No, she gave us the slip. And, dude, are those my boxers?"

"What? No, I told you I won't break in your boxers for you!"

"Aw. They look nice though. Can you get me a pair like that?"

"What's going on here? Why aren't you dressed?"

"How could you let Phoebe give you the slip?"

"Hey, she was already gone when we got there! If I'd known she would try this, I would have stood guard!"

There was an audible snort from behind the chair. Ross eyes narrowed and he strode across the room and almost pounced on Phoebe, who had clamped a hand on her mouth.

"PHOEBE! How could you do this to us? We were worried about you!"

Since now her cover was blown for good, Phoebe had to admit defeat.

"I'm not going back there! They're out to get me!"

"What? Who?"

"My bosses! The IRS! My clients! My – everybody!"

"Phoebe, that's absurd. No one's out to get you."

"How do you know that? You didn't lose 13 million dollars!"

"Still, you have to go back to the hospital, you're not well enough yet. You shouldn't be out and about! This could get you killed!"

"I'm fine!" Phoebe took a deep breath and then winced. "I will be fine. I just … need a moment. I'm fine! Leave me alone, will ya?"

"Here sit down, Pheebs, I'll make you some tea …"

"I can manage! And, um, Monica, no offense, but I really think you should get dressed. Or get a bigger bathrobe."

"Phoebe!" Monica blushed fiercely and tried to pull her robe even tighter, glaring at Joey when he ogled her. And jumped when Chandler kicked him on his shin.

"Ouch! Dude!"

"Stop leering at my girlfriend!"

"Your WHAT?!"

"What's going on? Monica, are you – did you – what are you doing?!"

"EVERYBODY STOP SCREAMING RIGHT NOW!"

"Phoebe! Phoebe! Just stop screaming, okay? Just stop!" Monica took a deep breath. "Everybody just calm down, okay? This is still my apartment! I'm going to get dressed and then we'll all have breakfast and discuss this like civilized people. And no more screaming! Is that clear?"

"But what –?"

"IS THAT CLEAR?"

Chandler had to hand it to her, once Monica got her dander up, nobody was able to hold their ground against her. Even Ross threw up his hands and retreated to the kitchen where he was joined by Joey who immediately started to check out the fridge. When Monica went back into her bedroom to get her clothes, he hurried after her and shut the door.

"Wow, Mon, that was awesome!"

"Really? It was, wasn't it?"

"Oh, totally." He drew her too him to kiss her and held on insistently when she tried to push him away.

"Chandler, no, the others …!"

"Let them. This is your apartment, you just said so yourself …"

"Yeah … but … um, no, I really have to get dressed! And take a shower …"

"Not in that order I hope?"

.

.

"So let me get this straight, you two are together now? But what about that, that doctor guy?"

"You mean Dr. Boring?"

"Chandler! That wasn't serious. How could it be when he was getting beeped all the time?"

Joey guffawed at this, but Ross still wasn't convinced.

"Not that I'm not happy for you, but, I mean, you were friends for so long … how did it happen?"

"Which version do you want to hear, G, PG or X-rated?" Ross winced.

"It happened Ross. Can't you just – accept it? I'm not asking you what happened between Carol and you. Or Rachel."

"Hey, leave Rachel out of this – okay, I see your point."

"Hallelujah!"

"And, oh, speaking of which, I asked her to come over tonight. She still doesn't know what to do and where to go, and so …"

"If you're trying to tell me that she should live here for a while, forget it Ross. The place isn't big enough for her!"

"Not live here, just, you know, visit, until she gets her bearings …"

"Why don't you let her stay with you? Don't you have the space now?"

Ross winced again. "Actually Carol wants to keep the apartment with Ben. It's really too big for me alone, even if I get Ben over the weekends."

"So you're looking for a place too? Well, you can't live here!"

"I know, calm down! Actually I was thinking of Chandler's place."

"My place? Why? I don't have a room."

"What about Joey's old room?"

"But that's Eddie's now."

"Who?"

"Eddie. My roommate. Come on, you've met him! Kinda thin, greasy hair, weird laugh …"

They all looked at each other blankfaced and shrugging, and Chandler started to feel uneasy.

"Oh, you mean the guy who ate three boxes of cookies on the day he moved in?"

"Naw, that was me." Joey grinned unashamedly.

"Well, he's often out, but he's definitely my roommate. How do you think I could afford the apartment otherwise?"

"I thought Joey still paid for it …"

"Naw, I offered, but Chandler wouldn't have it. He said he could take care of himself."

"So how do you do it, rob banks?"

"What? No!" Chandler threw up his hands. "I actually have a roommate who pays his share of the rent. Every month!"

"Monica, have you seen this roommate? Because I haven't. Not once!"

"No. Chandler talks about him, but I've never seen him either."

"Chandler, are you sure you're not imagining him?"

Chandler put his hands to his head and groaned. "Great, now I have an imaginary roommate. I don't get it! Why can't you believe that I've got a roommate? Okay, he's a little … shy. And weird."

"And invisible!"

"No, he isn't. He's just away a lot."

"When did you see him last?"

"What do you mean, see? As in –"

"See, as in see with your eyes!"

"Oh, that. I don't know."

"See? He IS invisible! Cool, an invisible roommate!"

"He's not invisible! I just try to avoid him because he's weird."

"Why, what does he do?"

"Well, he has an aquarium –"

"That's not weird …"

"- where he puts goldfish crackers in …"

"Okay, that is."

"And sometimes he won't let me in, because he thinks I'm someone else, like someone from the government in disguise."

"Ah, they can be so sneaky, those government guys!"

"And he always leaves his room through the window."

"How? It's on the fifth floor!"

"I think he's got some sort of rope ladder."

"So if you hardly see him, and he doesn't recognize you, how does he pay the rent?"

"Ah." Chandler grinned. "Through the mail, mostly, in plain brown envelopes. Sometimes he puts it under my pillow. Or tapes it on the back of the toilet tank …"

"Oh my god, I had no idea!" Phoebe gazed at him admiringly. "This is so cool! I wish I had such a cool roommate!"

"Hey!"

"Yeah, right, Monica, you're sweet and lovable, but you could never be weird like that." Monica made a face and shrugged, still a little rankled, and Chandler put his arm around her.

"Yeah, it may sound cool, but I'm telling you, it gets old really fast. Every first of the month I have to search the whole apartment for the money. One time he put it in my old briefcase and I didn't find it for weeks. I really thought he'd left me then."

"But I would love to have a roommate like that! Ooohhh – wait, oohh – why don't we switch rooms?"

"What? What are you talking about, Pheebs?"

"You would live here with Monica and I would live at your place, where nobody could find me!"

"You don't think they would look at the apartment across the hall when they look for you?"

"No! I would live under another name of course. Oh, that's so exciting!"

"Yeah, but then – then I would live here, and … actually that's – that would be kinda cool." He looked at Monica who was almost simpering at him and tightened his grip. "If you're okay with that?"

"If Phoebe's just across the hall and you're living here – of course I'm okay with that!"

"Dude! That's so sweet!"

"But isn't it too early …?"

"Ross! How can it be too early?"

"But you've only been together for – what? One day?"

"Three days actually."

"What?"

"Yes, but Ross, we were friends for so long! I know him better than you!"

"Yes, but after three days?"

"But I really need that room! Also Chandler's already spending all his time here, it won't make a difference."

"Really? I didn't know that!"

Monica groaned. "Ross! We're neighbors, of course he comes over all the time. You'd know that too, if you didn't spend all your time worrying about your dry spell with Carol."

Ross jumped up so hard his chair almost went flying. "How do you – PHOEBE!"

"What? I didn't tell her!"

"But – but –"

"Relax Ross. We all know about it. You haven't talked about anything else for half a year."

Ross slowly sat down again. "Yeah, but still … what else do you know?"

There was a pause in which Phoebe just rolled her eyes and Monica smirked, while Joey looked on, rather puzzled. Ross groaned.

"Okay. Okay. So you two are together, and now you'll shack up too."

"We haven't decided anything yet. But yeah, it sounds really great. Phoebe, are you sure about switching though? I mean, my place is not all that great."

"I know!" Phoebe sighed. "But Ursula's at my grandmother's place and I really can't live with her, and I don't have the time to look for another place."

"But you could still stay here! I mean Chandler and I won't need your room if he lived here, we could all live together!"

Phoebe grimaced. "Um, I don't think so. If you two go for it at least three times each night …"

"Four." Monica said smugly which made Chandler grin, until he caught sight of Ross' glowering at him.

"Wow, really?" Phoebe pursed her lips. "And have you lost weight yet?"

"Ooohh, yeah, I totally forgot! I lost six pounds!"

"WHAT?"

"Seriously?"

"How? When?!"

Chandler remained silent as the others shouted all at once, just staring at Monica with the corners of his mouth drooping. When Monica noticed at last, she looked concerned.

"Chandler, what's the matter? Aren't you happy? I never lost so much weight before in that short a time!"

"Yeah, I guess – but … this is so sudden. You could have warned me!"

"Why?"

"Six pounds? That's six pounds of you gone, lost, just like that, and I never got a chance to mourn them properly! That's horrible! Could you put them back on please?"

"WHAT?" Monica's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

"Please, just for me! I really loved them, all of them!"

"You're kidding right? Right?!"

Chandler shook his head. "No. At least show me where you lost them."

"What? What do you mean, where?"

"I mean they must have been somewhere before you lost them, so show me, so I know what I'm missing."

"Chandler, this is … Joey, what's up?"

Joey just shrugged helplessly as he drew up his nose. "I don't know, it just seems so sad! Now I miss them too!" He hooked an arm around Chandler who patted him on the back.

"At least please tell me they're not from your boobs!"

Monica threw up her hands. "Okay, no, they're not, at least I don't think so. Satisfied?"

"Well, for now … Subject to closer examination though. I really can't have you go around losing parts of yourself, can I?"

"Examination?" Monica narrowed her eyes at him. "Sounds good actually …"

"Ugh, guys, seriously!"

"RO-OSS …!"

Ross threw up his hands. "Okay, okay, fine, have it your way!"

"Ooohhh, thank you!"

"Hey, don't fight guys!" Joey intervened just as the two siblings started their weird arm gesture thing. "Chandler, do I have an audition?"

"No, but you've got that appointment with the pilot at 12."

"Oh that's today? Great!"

"Why a pilot?"

Chandler rolled his eyes. "There's an episode coming up where Dr. Ramoray has to operate on someone during a flight and he wanted some advice for that."

"From a pilot ...?"

"Sure! And if not, he can at least give me some phone numbers of some hot stewardesses."

"Oh, in that case …" Ross suddenly looked a little wistful, and Monica rolled her eyes.

"Right, so I should go now I guess." Joey eyed his plate regretfully. "Chandler, are you coming?"

"Um, no – unless …"

"Yes, he is." Monica said firmly. "I've got a lot to do still. We can meet up at the Perk later." She drew his head down to kiss him lingeringly, ignoring Ross' scowl. "And don't forget that test!"

They both froze as soon as she'd said that, staring into each other's widening eyes, conscious of everybody's puzzled eyes on them.

"What test?"

Ohgodohgodohgod, what to say what to say what to say … "Um, you know, that test that – you know that book. Sex for dummies. Monica wants to do it by the book you know."

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "And you really want me to stay here with you?!"


	5. A friend prevailing

"Monica, I really wish you would talk to Carol."

"Me? Why?"

"I'm sure you could make her come to her senses. I mean, this is so … unlike her."

"Oh Mom! What on earth could I say to her?"

Judy Geller sighed and picked at the place setting before her. "Well, you might tell her how hard this is on Ross for instance. He's your brother!"

Monica bit back her next comment purely out of habit, silently counting to five. They'd been there before. Uncountable times. And always here during their weekly lunches in her mother's favorite restaurant which she'd almost come to hate by now. The waiters were rude and snobbish without exception, the décor was too flamboyant and corny, the seats uncomfortable, the dishes overpriced, and she not only knew the meager menu by heart now but was sure she could have prepared every single dish on it much better herself. Most of them tasted suspiciously like convenience food to her anyway. But Judy would never even consider having lunch with her somewhere else. Monica had sometimes wondered if she just didn't want to be seen anywhere else with her unattractive daughter or if she was friends with someone in the management, or both, but really it just seemed like a deeply ingrained habit with her, a firmly established ritual. Drive to the city once a week for an hour at a beauty parlor (always the same too) and another hour or so of leisurely shopping (always at the same stores), then meet her at the restaurant for lunch and cross examination about just everything going on in her life. And in Ross' life of course.

"I hardly know her. If she wants to break up with Ross over another woman, surely that's their own affair? What could I say to them?"

Her mother pursed her mouth. "But … but she can't be serious with this. I mean, a divorce? They were always so happy. I mean, surely this is just a … misunderstanding? And so sudden too. If they waited a little longer, to reconsider …"

"Sudden? Happy? I don't know what Ross told you, but they haven't been happy for quite some time!"

"Oh?" Judy opened her eyes wide. "And you knew about this? And didn't tell me?"

One, two, three, four, five … "Tell you? Tell on Ross and be a tattletale?"

"But I'm your mother!"

"And Ross is my brother. I'm not telling on him. He should tell you himself."

"You should really be more supportive. He needs your help."

"With what? Getting Carol to sleep with him again?"

Her mother looked around her scandalized, checking that nobody had heard, and Monica wanted to kick herself.

"No, I meant with everything … be there for him. And for Ben. The poor boy …"

"I know. I feel sorry for Ben too. But if Carol's getting custody, what can we do?"

"Oh dear." Her mother sighed again theatrically. "And I wanted them to be at Lillian's party next week, but I guess that's out then."

"Maybe he could bring Rachel." As soon as it was out Monica wanted to kick herself again. What was it that always made her blurt out things to her mother?

Her mother's eyes widened. "Who?"

"Rachel. You know. My high school friend. She's … she's getting a divorce too."

"Oh, the one who married the dentist?"

"Orthodontist."

"Isn't that the same? I thought you had drifted apart."

"Ross met her three days ago and brought her over. Her husband cheated on her."

"Oh. And she wants a divorce just for that?"

"It looks like it. But you have to ask Ross. He wants to help her with it."

"Oh dear. I don't think … but anyway, you're right. It's his own affair. What about you?"

"I'm not getting divorced."

Her mother smiled indulgently. "Of course not, dear. I meant Lillian's party. Have you told Roger? You can come a bit later if he needs to work."

Monica took a deep breath, silently counting to five and then to ten for good measure. When her mother's expectant gaze turned slightly puzzled she clenched her hands.

"I – I broke up with Roger."

"What? But why? Did he – cheat on you?"

"No. No, he didn't cheat on me. When would he ever find the time to cheat on me? He's always working!"

"But that's good, isn't it? He's such a good doctor, you should be proud that he works so hard."

"I am. I mean I was. But it's … it's got too much. Every single time when we were together he got beeped. He never turns off that beeper. Even when we – "

"Monica, not so loud!"

"I meant, even when I broke up with him he was beeped. I didn't even get to see him, I had to do it by phone!"

And talk to his answering machine several times before she finally reached him in person. His machine had been very understanding though, much more so than Roger himself. She wasn't even sure now that she had really gotten her message across to him.

"But was this really necessary? Just because he has no time for you, you are single again?"

Oh god, should she really do this? One, two, three, deep breath …

"I'm not single. I – I'm with – with someone else."

Her mother's left eyebrow lifted slightly. "Really? You are? Why didn't you tell me sooner? Someone I know?"

Four, five … it was no use, she could count to a hundred and it wouldn't help. She had to get through this. She wasn't a kid any longer. She was grown up. A mature, independent, thirty year old woman with a boyfriend. And maybe pregnant.

"Yes. It's Chandler."

"Chandler?" her mother repeated vaguely and suddenly frowned. "Not that –"

"Yes. Ross' roommate in college. My neighbor."

"Oh. That Chandler. But dear, why him? Didn't he take drugs?"

"No, he didn't. If you're thinking of that time when Ross had that marijuana in his room and said it was Chandler's …"

"Who else could it have been?"

"Didn't he say that Chandler had just jumped out of the window?"

"Yes …?"

"Mom, Ross' room was on the fourth floor."

"Oh. I see." Judy patted her hair nervously and then tried to signal a waiter who ignored her. Her smile froze at that and Monica suddenly wanted nothing more than a chance to give every waiter in the place a solid kick where it hurt most. They had been waiting for their main course for 20 minutes now, and she knew it was because they wanted her mother to order another chardonnay before it arrived. And when it finally arrived, it would only be lukewarm.

"But what does he do?"

"He doesn't take drugs."

"Yes, I believe you dear." Her expression clearly said otherwise. "Where does he work?"

"He's a writer."

"Oh, a writer. Of course, isn't his mother a writer too …?"

"Yes, she is, and no he's not – that kind of writer."

"A pity. I heard that she's very successful. Wasn't she at Jay Leno's recently?"

"I didn't see it." Actually she remembered that Chandler had begged her not to watch it. His mother was a constant source of embarrassment to him. So at least she wasn't the only one who had problems with their parents. That was a comforting thought.

"He's not a published writer though, is he?"

"Actually he sold a story to the New Yorker this week."

"Oh. How nice. Well, if you are sure …"

"Sure? Of course I'm sure. What do you mean?"

Now her mother seemed slightly uncomfortable. "I mean it could be that he's just – using you. You're always so –"

"Naïve?"

"Trusting. It's such a nice trait to have, but …"

"But I know Chandler. I've known him for years. Much longer than Dr. Roger. If he wanted to be with me just so he could just use me, why didn't he do it already nine years ago?"

"I'm sure you know best, dear. Oh my, I think I need another chardonnay now. And there's no waiter around – do you think you could get me one at the bar?"

Monica rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back resignedly.

"Get one for yourself too" her mother added and she shuddered inwardly.

"Um – no thanks. It gives me a headache."

"Champagne then. Yes, why not? We have to celebrate your new relationship, don't we?"

"Um … another time maybe? I'm really not in the mood today."

"Nonsense, of course we should. Oh, here's our order! My, this looks delicious!"

"Looks half cold to me."

"Oh Monica, you shouldn't say that."

"Why not? First they let us wait half an hour and then the food is cold. That's no way to treat regular customers!"

"Monica, please stop making a scene …"

Monica sat down again. "Fine. But you know what? Next time I'll chose the restaurant. If you don't like it, we can come back here. How does that sound?"

Her mother's gaze fluttered over the plate before her, the tablecloth and the carpet.

"Whatever you say, dear. Yes, let's try that. But now you should eat before it gets cold –"

"Even colder than this?"

"Surely they can heat it up a little again. But this will take a while, aren't you hungry?"

"Not anymore."

Her mother's eyes widened again.

"Are you feeling alright? You look a little …"

"What? Of course I'm okay. Never better actually. I lost six pounds!"

"Oh." Her mother stared at her. "But that's … marvelous. But how? I hope you're not … starving yourself?"

"What? No, I'm not. Really not. It's just – I think it's because I'm with Chandler. He's so – nice, I never think about eating when I'm with him."

"Oh, that's … nice. I'm glad that he takes care of you."

Monica smiled. "Yes, he does. He really does. I'm so happy with him."

"I feel sorry for Roger though. He must be very disappointed."

"I'm sure he isn't."

"That's not a nice thing to say!"

"But it's true! When I told him I wanted to break up with him, he thought I had broken my leg."

Her mother just shook her head and sighed. "But you would have made such a nice couple."

"How? He's never there!" Monica narrowed her eyes. "You're not thinking about getting him back for me, are you?"

"Well … he would be so much better for you. He's a doctor after all!"

"So? But I'd never be happy with him."

"But …"

"Mom, please. You of all people should understand this."

"Me? Why?"

"Remember how you told us how Nana wanted you to marry a banker? And you chose Dad instead? Even though she said he was no good?"

Her mother opened her mouth and closed it again. For a long moment they just stared at each other. Monica leaned forward a little, lowering her voice.

"Mom, don't you understand? Chandler is my dad – I mean my Jack. I love him."

Her mother blinked and then smiled vaguely.

"Of course you do, dear. And I'm happy for you."

Monica sat back, frowning. "Really?"

"Yes, dear. Oh, you poor dear, your fettucini have gone cold! Why don't you take them back to the kitchen to let them heat it up again? And you could get me another chardonnay on your way back!"

.

When she got arrived at the fifth floor of her apartment building, she found Phoebe crouching before the door of no. 19, her eye locked to the spyhole.

"Phoebe! What are you doing?!"

"SHSSH!" her roommate hissed at her, flailing her arms. "I want to know what he looks like."

"Who? Chandler?"

"NO! I know what he looks like. I think. No, his roommate!"

"Eddie? Is he in there?"

Phoebe shrugged and then straightened, wincing and rubbing her stiff neck.

"I don't know. I can hardly see anything through this. Hm, maybe I should try to push a mirror under the crack …"

"Phoebe, stop! You can't do this! What if he sees you?"

"Oh alright. Wait, what was that?"

"What?"

"I heard – oh god, quick, get in there!" Phoebe hurriedly shoved her through the door of her apartment and shut it, then glued her eye to the spyhole once again.

"He's coming out! There he is!"

"Really? Let me see!" Phoebe reluctantly made way and Monica put her eye against the spyhole. And sure enough, there he was, rather distorted and fuzzy, but plain to see. A rather thin guy with lank, greasy hair standing in the open door of Chandler's apartment and looking furtively around him. Then he ducked back in and brought out a stepladder which he put down at the wall next to the door.

"What is he doing?" Phoebe whispered urgently.

"I don't know … here, see for yourself."

Phoebe stared through the spyhole for a long moment, then drew a sharp breath.

"I don't believe this! You know what he's doing? He's spying on us!"

"What? Phoebe, wait, what are you doing?"

Phoebe violently flung the door open and threw herself at Eddie who had climbed up the ladder and was fixing something on the lamp over the door. When he saw Phoebe he squealed with terror, dropping a screwdriver and –

"Is that a camera? Why you screwy little weirdo, are you spying on – oh my god, Dennis? Is that you?"

Dennis? But wasn't his name Eddie? Whoever it was, he clung to the wall now, shaking visibly and staring at Phoebe with huge frightened eyes.

"No, I'm … um, I don't … I …" When Phoebe stood close to the ladder and fixated him sternly, arms crossed, it looked like he wanted to melt into the wall.

"Dennis, I know it's you, I'd know you everywhere. How long has this been going on?"

Eddie swallowed and tried to pull himself together. "Um, hi, Ursula … I really didn't mean to –"

"Ursula? You think I'm Ursula?"

"Um, yes, that is, no, of course not, I mean I know I'm not allowed near you …"

"Oh no." Phoebe sighed resignedly. "But I'm not Ursula. I'm Phoebe!"

Eddie aka Dennis stared at her. "Phoebe? No. Nonononono. You're not Phoebe. You're Ursula."

"No! I'm Phoebe! Here, if you don't believe me, ask Monica!"

"It's true. She's Phoebe."

But Eddie just smirked, narrowing his eyes. "But Phoebe's dead!"

"WHAT? That's crazy! How do you know that?"

"I know because she lived with your grandmother, and then she died."

"But that was Ursula. So my sister's dead? But that can't be. Who's living at my grandmother's if she's dead?"

Eddie frowned. "Um, your grandmother?"

"But my grandmother died! Oh, this is getting ridiculous!"

"Nononono. Your grandmother's still alive. I check every week, she's still registered there. Still gets mail. Her name's still at the door."

"Of course it is. The apartment's rent controlled. My sister's living there under her name –" Phoebe broke off abruptly, her mouth forming a perfect O. "Oh my god!"

Eddie's face fell as the truth began to dawn on him. "You're not … you mean …"

"Yes! Don't you see? She tricked us! All of us! She's living there under our grandmother's name, pretending to be her, pretending that she's still alive …" Her eyes narrowed. "I bet she's collecting her pension too, that – that minx …!"

Eddie's shoulders slumped at that and he slowly stepped down from the ladder.

"But are you sure your grandmother's dead?" he asked hopelessly. Phoebe's eyes softened.

"Actually – yes, I'm sure. I've got her urn here."

"Her urn …? Oh, so that's why I couldn't find your grave! I mean, hers. If you're really Phoebe? But this means … what does it mean?"

Phoebe sighed. "It means that all this time you lived here – what is it, five years? - you've been stalking the wrong sister."

Eddie sat down on the stepladder, burying his head in his hands. "Oh no. Oh no."

"Oh cheer up. It could happen to anybody."

"Not to me! I was so sure! I mean – you're so like her!"

"Well, we are twins ..."

"No, I don't mean that. You're exactly like her, so bitchy and cruel …"

"WHAT?"

"You fire people all the time, you kick them around, you ruin your clients …"

"But … but I had to … and anyway, that's over! You hear me? I stopped. I had two heart attacks –"

"Yeah, I was wondering, what was that all about?"

"It was the stress. Now I'm done with that. I quit my job …"

"They fired you, Phoebe."

"Yeah, well, potato, potahto."

Eddie slowly got up and took up the ladder and the dropped camera. "Alright, if you're really Phoebe, then … I don't know, I really have to think about this. There must be a mistake somewhere. Something's wrong about this. Anyway, I'm … I just …" and he started inching his way to the door. As soon as he got near the doorstep, he turned around and bolted inside, shutting the door in their faces.

"Wait, we're not finished! Dennis Edward – um, whatever your last name is! Come back! Now!"

"Phoebe, leave him alone. He's crazy!"

"That's no excuse to be rude! Hey, don't you have a key to the apartment?" Just as she said it, they heard Eddie putting the chain on. And the bolt.

"Come back inside, Pheebs. It's no use and you should get some rest."

"Alright." But on their doorstep she turned back once more, shaking her fist at door no. 19. "But this isn't over!"

"Phoebe! Leave it, okay?"

"Yeah, alright, I'm coming, I'm coming. You're right, we'll deal with him later. So, how did it go with your mother?"

"Oh, you know, same as always."

"Ooh, that bad?"

"Well … but I did tell her about Chandler."

"You did? Really? Good for you! Oh, I forgot, Roger called. I thought you'd broken up with him!"

"I did! Why, what did he say?"

"Are you sure you broke up? Because he wanted to know if you wanted him to treat your broken leg!"

.

Chandler came back just as she and Phoebe were watching the Tonight Show on the couch. When she flew at him he caught her in his arms, only rocking back a little from the impact, and pulled her tight. On the couch Phoebe rolled her eyes and demonstratively turned away as they kept kissing.

"Oh, get a room!"

"Thanks, Phoebe, we've got one." Chandler grinned at her and then smiled at Monica tenderly, surreptitiously opening his jacket a little and letting her see a little oblong folding box. When she looked at him questioningly, he nodded and gave her a thumbs-up, before turning to Phoebe.

"So how are you? Feeling better?"

She just shrugged. "I guess. But oh guess what! I found out who your roommate is!"

"What? What do you mean who he is? He's my roommate!"

"No! I mean yes, but he's also Ursula's stalker! One of her stalkers."

"Oh. He is? Wow."

"And he thought I was Ursula, that's why he's here!"

Chandler stared. "He thought – oh my god, that's why he wanted the apartment so badly!"

"Yes! He was spying on me the whole time! Isn't that great?"

"If you put it that way …" When he put his arm around Monica again, Phoebe sighed.

"I can't watch this! I think I'll go to bed. Um, Chandler, you wouldn't happen to have some earplugs, do you?"

"Oh, I do, but they're in my room – in my apartment I mean."

"Oh. No, don't bother, he's put the chain on. We can get them tomorrow."

"We'll try to keep it down, Pheebs" Chandler said, straight-faced, at which she winced and closed her eyes resignedly.

"Do you want something to eat?" Monica asked him and he nodded eagerly, following her to the kitchen and putting his arms around her again from behind, kissing her on the neck and shoulders. She got out the food and then sat at the table with him, watching him eat while they talked, amazed at how happy it made her that his foot kept touching hers constantly and how he kept smiling at her. And feeding her bits and pieces of his food.

"Didn't Ross say that Rachel would come over?" he asked at length.

"Yeah, but she phoned to tell me she couldn't make it, then again because she changed her mind and once more because Ross wanted to show her the museum and she thought it would get too late."

"No worries then, if Ross really got to show her the museum, she's probably asleep by now."

She cuffed him, but couldn't help giggling at the thought of Rachel falling asleep in the museum, maybe on a caveman's fur in a stone-age diorama. Or under a dinosaur model.

Finally Phoebe went to her room and as soon as she shut her door, Chandler got up to take the folding box with the pregnancy test out of his jacket and showed it to her. She looked at the printing doubtfully and then opened it to read the package leaflet while he was eating.

"I think we need to wait a little more, just to make sure. It says here if I take it now, it could be a false negative."

He shrugged. "Okay, then we wait. How long?"

"Until my period is due I guess. So – a week?"

"Can you wait that long?"

"I don't know. I really would like to take it now but if it's no use …"

He drew her to him and kissed her on the cheek. "Shsh. It's going to be alright. We'll just wait. And if you can't take it anymore, we'll use this up and I'll get you another."

"Really, you would do that? Oh, that's so sweet!"

"Of course. As many as it takes. Oh, I also got some more condoms. You should have seen the cashier's face."

"Oh god, did he say anything?"

"No. I just said, I wanted to test the condoms really thoroughly. And I do."

She giggled delightedly at that. "No problem. In fact we can start right away –"

He grinned and jumped up in an exaggerated hurry, pretending to chomp at the bit and pawing the carpet with his feet.

"- as soon as I've cleared this away though."

"Oh." His face fell a little and he sat back down. "Well I guess I can hold out a little longer. Or try at least."

"Or give me a hand?"

He jumped up at that and took hold of her again. "Great idea. Why don't you take both?"

"Chandler! Ah … um … oh god, at least wait until I've – oh god."

After some intense cuddling he took pity on her and actually helped her stacking the dishes and cutlery in the sink. After she'd turned on the hot water and put soap in, he claimed her again, urgently wrapping his arms around and kissing her, gently steering her towards the table. When her buttocks pushed against its edge, he urged her up until she was sitting on it, fleetingly worrying that she was too heavy for it, but it stood fast. Then Chandler stood between her knees, pressing against her and sliding his hands under her sweater at the small of her back. When she felt him stroking and rubbing her sides and back, she moaned and parted her lips, inviting his tongue in, pawing and clawing at his back and shoulders.

"Uuummm … I think you're right … there's a bit missing here – right here in fact ..."

"What … what are you talking about …?"

He smiled into their kiss. "Your missing pounds. At least one of them must have come from here, if I'm not much mistaken. Oookaaaayy … not too much damage here yet … still holding up nicely … uh-hu … But now for the crucial bit. The one that really matters …. Mmmhhhm. Lovely." Before she could stop him or even decide if she wanted him to, he had opened her bra and now cupped and caressed her breasts with both hands, gently sliding his thumbs over her nipples. It made her tingle all over, her breath coming in short bursts, interspersed with their kissing. Chandler's breath had sped up too and when she arched her back and wrapped her legs around his waist, he started to kiss her neck and jawline, pushing her further back, until she was almost lying on the table …

"Oh, you've got to be kidding!"

They both froze, turning their heads to stare at Phoebe who had come out of her room, presumably on her way to the bathroom. For a long moment they remained like that, then Phoebe resignedly averted her eyes and grimly marched past them, shaking her head and muttering to herself.

"I really really really need to move!"


	6. A friend moving in

"Phoebe, are you sure you can't wait a little? I mean, it is still early ..."

"Of course I can't wait! I need to be out of here by ten! Latest!"

"Ten?!"

"Yeah. That's when they get around to – making their rounds. You know, after they'd had their coffees, checked their mail, finished their briefings –"

"Who?"

"What do you mean who? They! Them! The – the government guys!"

"Oh them. Ten a.m. though? That would mean you're pretty high up on their lists. Are you sure you're not like something around one or two p.m., first thing after lunch break?"

"You don't think thirteen million dollars would get me a spot in the morning?"

Chandler sighed. "Can I at least finish my coffee?"

"You do realize they'll arrest you as accessory if they find me here …?"

Not for the first time Chandler wished that Monica was there. It was most unfortunate that she was in charge of the breakfast shift that day and had had to leave early. He had wanted to get some writing done until she returned, but clearly Phoebe had other plans – and he was definitely no match for her, not alone by himself.

"Nobody will find you here. Because no one will look." But he could see in her face that it was absolutely no use arguing with her.

"Fine. Just give me your keys. You can join me later."

No use whatever, so Chandler sighed again as he got up from his chair. "Alright, I'm coming … No, you'd better let me go in first."

"Why?"

"Well, you know … Eddie doesn't really like strangers …"

"I'm not a stranger. He stalked me for years!"

"Right. He did. But still –"

"Just open the door. Come on!"

Chandler shrugged resignedly and put the key into the lock. "I still don't think – oh, he's put the chain on. Guess we'll have to wait after all."

"What? Let me see. Uh-huh … Just give me some room."

"Pheebs? What are you doing?" Phoebe was standing quite still with her shoulder to the door and her eyes screwed shut in concentration while she carefully slid her hand into the crack between the door and the jamb, fumbling at the chain. "Easy! If I need that lock changed again, Treeger will kill me!"

"Don't worry … there … Yes! I've got it! Yay! Ughh, what's that smell?"

"There's a smell? But there wasn't one – oh no, is he dead?"

"I don't know. Who?"

"My roommate! Is he dead?"

"How should I know? He's not here!" Phoebe moved forward cautiously and Chandler deemed it safe to put his head around the door. From what he could see everything looked normal. Normal as in quiet and seemingly deserted, and –

"Ugh, you're right with the smell. That's the aquarium. He must have forgotten to feed his fish again."

"But you said he only kept goldfish crackers?"

"Also real fish, but they never last long … Well I guess he's not here – what are you doing?!"

Phoebe had gone over to his roommate's door and bent down to peep through the peephole.

"Pheebs? Is he –"

"SSHHH!" Phoebe waved him off without taking her eyes off the keyhole. "I think … I think he's asleep. There's someone in the bed anyway."

"Let me see … Ah. Okay. Yeah, it's the dummy."

"What?"

"The dummy. Don't you remember? Joey got it for me before he moved out, so I wouldn't feel so lonely."

"Oh. Oh that one! Yeah! Are you sure?"

"Yup. Eddie never sleeps in his bed, too dangerous."

"Where does he sleep then?"

"On the floor in front of the door. In case someone comes in you know."

"Oh. Is that where he's now?" Phoebe got down on her knees and tried to look under the door. "Don't think so, there's nothing to block the light ..." She got up again. "I guess he left then. Pity. What time does he come back usually?"

"No idea. Could be anytime."

Phoebe considered for a moment and then shrugged it off. "Okay, I'll deal with him later. Now let's get your things out of your room, so I can move in."

"Now? You want to move in now?"

"Didn't I say that? Of course I mean now!" Phoebe strode over determinedly to his room and pushed the door open, nearly falling into the room when the lower half remained in place.

"Hey, your door is still sawn in half! I thought you'd fixed that!"

"No. I tried gluing it, but Eddie separated it again."

"Why did he do that?"

Chandler winced. "So it's easier for him to get into my room. He does that … sometimes. Well, all the time really."

Phoebe shrugged again. "To check if anything's changed? Of course he would do that. What's so weird about that?"

Chandler stared. "You're okay with that? What if he does it when you're there?"

Phoebe's smile widened. "Oohh, I hope he does! I can't wait to see his face when he sees it's me! Hey, that will be so exciting!" She went into his room and stood at the end of the bed, looking around her critically. "Let's get your stuff out before he gets back. What shall we take first? That dresser?"

"That's not mine, it was here when I moved in."

"Oh. The bookshelf then."

"Also not mine."

"The wardrobe?"

"That actually is mine – but I don't think it can be moved. It's pretty shaky -" He winced when Phoebe tried to open it. "Careful! You need to hold on to the jamb like this, otherwise – oh shoot. Yeah, like that – ouch – oops – oh shoot …" Just as Phoebe jumped back, the upper shelf of the wardrobe broke off and crashed to the floor, spilling his shirts and pants on the way.

"Great. Now what? Where will I put all my clothes?"

"Did you really think you could move that crap over to Monica's? We'd better throw it away."

"But where will you put your clothes?"

"My wardrobe of course. We'll move it over. But we have to get your things out first. What? What's the matter?"

Chandler sat down on his bed and stared disconsolate at the wreck of his wardrobe.

"I don't know. All of this is happening so fast - I guess, I haven't really thought it through."

"So?"

"Well … I mean, it didn't matter much before, but now – look at this. All I have is pretty much crap - there's almost nothing I want to keep. My laptop is already over at Monica's. A few clothes, some books, maybe this radio – that's it."

"Really? That's great! I thought I would need all day to move, but now –"

"But Phoebe – I'm not sure I should. Not anymore."

"What? Why? But I thought you wanted to! Don't you want to live with Monica anymore?"

"Of course I do. But – this is so sudden. Ross was right. What if – what if it doesn't work?"

"Of course it will work. You love her, don't you?"

"Yes. Yes I do." And as soon as he said it, he realized that it was true. When Phoebe looked at him strangely, he blinked at her confusedly. "What?"

"It's just – wow, I just didn't expect you to be so … certain."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. She loves you too, you know. I'm not sure why, but she does. So why shouldn't it work?" As he gestured at his room helplessly, she snorted. "Just because you don't have a lot of stuff? She'll love you all the more for it, because this way she can keep all her stuff the way it is. You know how she hates to change things in her apartment. When I moved in it took us months to get adjusted. I'm even not quite sure we are adjusted yet!"

Chandler sighed. "Maybe you're right. But I still feel as if I should bring something with me. Just so I don't feel like a complete parasite."

Phoebe patted him on the back. "Oh, don't worry about that. If it was any other woman you'd move in with, then yeah, maybe, but with Monica – I think you'll be fine. Yes, you will. Better than me probably."

"Well, maybe. But what if we have a fight? Or if I can't pay the rent? Where would I go?"

"You could move back here again. Or live with Joey. Or Ross if he has a place by then. Chandler! Why are you so worried? You won't fight with Monica. And even if you do she'll never kick you out. Though it's possible you'll have to sleep on the sofa once in a while ... And trust me, the rent is the last thing you need to worry about."

"Oh. Well, if you're sure …"

"Yes, I am. Now let's get going. I want all traces of me eliminated from Monica's apartment. As if I've never even been near the place! Come on, we'll put your things in boxes and make room here, then we'll get my things."

Chandler got up from the bed. "Right. But I don't want to move my things over just yet. Not before Monica says it's okay."

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Fine! But you really needn't worry you know. You're shaping up as the perfect henpecked hubby already."

.

In fact, packing up his clothes, linen, towels and other belongings was accomplished almost depressingly fast. Hardly an hour later, the boxes with his stuff were stacked in a corner of the living room and they could start on Phoebe's things. As it turned out, most of the furniture in her room belonged to Monica's apartment, so after moving the wardrobe they only had to pack up her clothes, linen, throws, blankets, and various small things, like lamps, candles, books, an assortment of handbags and briefcases plus an impressive ashtray collection. And also two big … art things. Chandler vaguely assumed they were pictures, since they came in frames. If pictures could still be called pictures if they had dolls stuck on them with their arms and legs hanging out of the frame anyhow, for all the world like they wanted nothing better than to break out of their homes and go exploring. Secretly he was rather glad that Phoebe wouldn't think of leaving them behind.

"Hey, careful with Gladys, she's a little –"

"Loose? Unhinged? Not all there?"

"Fragile." Phoebe shot him a dirty look. "And look who's talking, that Beetlejuice poster of yours looks ready to crumble to dust – ugh, what's that? Hey, there's a hole in the wall behind it!"

"That's from a wall plug. The walls are pretty thin here."

"No, it's a hole! An actual hole! I think I can look into your roommate's room!"

"What? No way. Why would there be – oh my god."

"Well, it's Eddie. I'd have been more surprised if there hadn't been a spyhole."

"But how did he see anything through the poster? Oh no, look at that, he put a hole through that too!" Right through the window of the house that Beetlejuice was sitting on, where it didn't show unless you looked really hard. Chandler tried to look through the hole into the other room, but couldn't actually discern much. The blinds seemed to be down and the room was almost dark.

"I can't believe he watched me through that. I mean, why?"

"Beats me." Phoebe smirked. "Maybe he just fed a wire through here or something."

"Are you really going to be okay here, Pheebs?"

"Oh yes! Don't worry about me. I'm going to beat him with his own weapons. Oooh, that will be so exciting!"

"Well, if you change your mind, you're always welcome to your old room. I don't think Monica and I are going to use it much."

Phoebe grinned at him. "That's what you think. I'm betting you anything that Monica will turn it into a perfect guestroom. You know with lace curtains and chintz bed covers and dolls sitting in easy chairs. And a Victorian tea table with covered legs and a really fancy china tea set that can't be used ever, only looked at. Kind of like a life size dollhouse room where you can't even sneeze without breaking something – what?"

Chandler stared. "Seriously?"

"Well, it sort of looked like that before I moved in. Don't you remember?"

"I think that was before I moved in here. Oh god. You really think she wants that room back?"

Phoebe shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe she changed her mind by now. It was a long time ago. You'll find out, won't you? Now, do we have everything? Oh, what about my bed?"

"Is it actually yours?"

"No, but the mattress is. And oh god, I almost forgot!" And she rushed out of the room and back to apartment #20, with an almost terrified expression on her face. When Chandler caught up with her, he found her lying on the floor by the bed, groping around under it.

"Oh no, she's gone, she's – ah, oh thank god! I got her! To think I almost forgot her!" And she sat up again cradling a large silver vase like container in her arms.

"Forgot who?"

"My grandmother! Ooh, I could never leave her behind! At least not until I find the right place for her to be scattered. Until then I have to keep her."

"Under your bed?"

"I didn't want to freak out Monica with her, but I couldn't put her into the wardrobe. Too dark and lonely. Do you think Eddie will mind if I put her on the counter?"

"No idea. I think when he comes back, your grandmother will be the least of his worries."

"Oh good! Okay, that's only the mattress left now, and then we're set. Ooh, that makes me so happy! I think I have to write a song about it. Hmm … 'moving, grooving, gotta keep moving … keep my granny moving too …' Something like that?"

.

When Monica came back at noon, Phoebe's former room really looked as if she never had lived there. Except for the remaining furniture, the carpet and the curtains it was completely bare. Chandler hadn't wanted to put his horrible old mattress into the bedstead without consulting Monica first, and the empty frame made the room look even more deserted.

"Chandler, come on, let me see!"

"Uh-uh. You don't want to see this."

"Oh please. This is still my apartment. I've seen worse!"

"Really? I don't think so. Seriously, it's - - rather grim. Dreary even."

"Did you and Phoebe really clear out everything?"

"Pretty much. Everything that didn't belong here."

"Oh. That's … Wait. Did she take Gladys too? Please tell me she did!"

"Yes, she did. Glynnis too. And her grandmother. "

"Glynnis' grandmother? Oh, you mean her grandma's … ashes."

"Yup. Though she nearly forgot those."

"Thank god she remembered. So there's nothing left? But where's your stuff? Why didn't you put it here already?"

"I didn't want to move it behind your back."

"Oh that's so sweet! You left everything? Your furniture?"

"I don't have any furniture. Well, the wardrobe, but we threw that away when it broke down."

"No furniture? Your bookshelf?"

"Not mine."

"Your desk?"

"I don't have a desk."

"Oh my. Your … oh, your bed?"

"Not mine. I've got a mattress though, but it's really crappy. Actually Phoebe left her bedstead and just took the mattress."

"So what do you have?"

Chandler hesitated, trying to meet her gaze and failing. "Actually … not much."

"I see." And then she took his head in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "And you feel bad for that?"

"Umm … maybe. Most of it is so old and crappy – I really don't want to have it here. It wouldn't fit. It's not – " he got caught in her steady blue gaze and swallowed heavily. "It's not – good enough."

Her gaze softened. "Chandler …"

"That's what I realized when Phoebe and I were packing everything. I don't have anything that's worth anything. Never had really."

"That's not true. And even if it was – there's still you. And I want you, no matter what you bring with you. Even if you had absolutely nothing, it still would mean that I get to have so much more than I had before!"

He grinned. "Nothing? Even if I was completely naked?"

"Oooh, could you be? Then I could dress you up again - oooh, I'd love that!" And she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips on his.

"Ummm … mmmh … okay, should I take my clothes off here or across the hall …? Ouch … mmh … ha, then I'd be like that French princess!"

"Huh?"

"I think I saw that on TV once. There was this French crown prince who had to marry a foreign princess and they met at the French border. And she had to leave everything she owned behind, even her clothes and cross the border completely naked."

"Oh my god. Wasn't that Marie Antoinette?"

"Could be. So, if you insist …?"

She smiled widely and twinkled at him. "Well, not in the hall … but maybe on the doorstep of my bedroom? OUR bedroom I mean."

"Really? Ours?"

"Of course ours! If you live here, then it's yours too. And I definitely want you naked, but not right now, because I'm starving. Aren't you hungry too, after all that packing?"

"Actually I really was, but now …"

"Aw, come on. Look at it this way, if I don't get anything to eat now, I lose more weight, and you hate that."

"That's true. Have you lost more weight?"

"I don't know, I didn't check. Maybe."

"Remind me to check that. Really thoroughly."

.

During lunch he told her how he had spent the morning packing and moving with Phoebe, and about the mysterious absence of his roommate and the hole in his wall.

"What a creep! I hope he won't come back. Or that Phoebe'll scare him away for good. Ooh, maybe I had better check if he had a camera installed in my apartment too!"

"What? Oh god. You're right, I never thought of that. But there wasn't one in Phoebe's room, I'm sure of that."

"But what about here? In the kitchen? Or my bedroom – oh my god!"

"I don't think so. You would have noticed."

"Really?"

"Of course. Remember the time Joey rearranged the fridge magnets? No, I don't think Eddie ever got into this apartment. He was too scared of Phoebe."

"But can we check anyway?"

"Of course we'll check. I want to be sure he's not watching us ... do stuff."

She twinkled. "So maybe we should do it in Phoebe's room until we're sure."

"But there's no bed in there. No mattress. And no, I'm not putting my old mattress in there. It's too old, and besides, it won't hold up."

"Hold up to what? Oh. That bad?"

"'Yup. And now that I've spent so many nights in your bed, I don't want to go back to it anymore."

"Our bed" she corrected him gently. "That's so sweet! But then we'll have to get a new mattress."

"For what? The guest room?"

Monica looked startled. "What guest room?"

"Well … Phoebe said, you wanted to have a guest room. With lace curtains and chintz covers and – um – well, that's what she said."

"Oh. Um, yeah, I may have wanted that. Once. Before you … before us."

"And now? What's wrong with a guest room?"

"Nothing, but I thought, if you lived here, maybe you would like to have a workroom. You know, where you could write."

"Oh. Oh my god. You're right. I could use it for writing … but –"

"But? It's perfect! No one would disturb you there."

"But I don't need a work room. I never had one before."

"I know. You always come here to write."

"True. Actually it's where I work best. In your kitchen."

"Our kitchen."

"Right. Our kitchen. That's even better. So what would I need a work room for? Also it's too big for an office."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Anyway, we needn't decide right now. Maybe we'll find another use for the room before long."

"Like what? A store room? I already have a closet, you know."

"I was thinking, if it should turn out that you're really pregnant …"

Monica covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes widening. "Oh my god! I keep forgetting. Um. Yeah. Of course, it could be the baby's room. But – "

"I know. I don't want to think about that either. Not until we're sure." He leaned forward and put his arm around her. "For the time being we can put all those boxes with my stuff in there. Later though. I had other plans for our afternoon."

She grinned conspiratorial. "Don't you have anything to do? What about Joey?"

"On Friday afternoon? He's probably on his way to a party already."

"And Phoebe's still unpacking. Wow, looks like we're both free!"

"What? You mean, you don't have anything either? No vacuuming? Laundry? Window cleaning? Ironing?"

"Weeelll – if you put it that way …" When his face fell, she burst out laughing. "Gotcha! No, there's nothing that can't wait."

"Even unpacking?"

"Oooh, unpacking! Yes, but later. For now I only want to unpack you."

Chandler closed his eyes in bliss. "No problem."

.

Much later they lay close together on her bed (their bed, even though he still had trouble believing it), arms and legs still intertwined, resting and catching their breath. Earlier Monica had drawn the blinds two thirds down and shut the door, and now it seemed to him as if they were removed from the world outside, in their own little bubble of space in the twilit room where no one could intrude on them, or spy on them, even care about what they were doing, leaving them completely in peace. It made him realize how much he had longed for that, to be completely at peace with himself and the world. And yet not alone, or worse, lonely.

"You know, I never thought I would have sex in the afternoon. I mean, I'd pretty much given up on sex too, but during daytime too – that's soo … I don't know, decadent? Bohemian?"

"I wouldn't know. I never had sex at night before you."

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know why. We always did it in the daytime. She never let me stay the night."

Monica opened her mouth to say something and shut it again, just looking at him expectantly. Chandler took up a strand of her hair to play with it, not meeting her eyes.

"I still don't know why. She wasn't married or something like that. But she was – sort of particular. Very much so. She had very firm ideas about everything, especially sex … Are you sure you want to know?"

"Of course. I wanted you to tell me before, only there was always something else –"

"That came up?" He grinned. "Yeah I know. But it's a rather pathetic story. Bound to be a letdown for you."

"That doesn't matter. I want to hear it. Was she really your first? What's her name?"

"Her name was Joanna."

"Was?"

"She died in a car accident."

"Oh my god, that's terri-"

"Not for me. I know it sounds horrible, and I feel bad for not feeling bad about it, but it was kind of a relief. Until then I had been living in fear that she would find me again one day."

"Why, what would she have done?"

"Chained me to her bed probably. Again. Or her desk."

"… Chained? Oh my god. Why –"

"Well, she needed to be in control. All the time. Otherwise it didn't work for her. She had to set up everything beforehand. Time, place, position –"

"What position?"

"There was only one. She was always on top. It was either that or no sex at all."

"Oh god. Did that even work for you, I mean, could you even –"

"Yeah. Sort of. I told myself that I got to have sex and that was all that mattered. But it wasn't easy. She would always take so long. So before she got the cuffs, it actually got quite boring. I nearly fell asleep once. "

"And then?"

"Then she got the cuffs, and I got scared – on top of being bored." He smiled wryly when her eyes widened even more. "Scared that she would leave me like that, chained to the bed for hours, while she went shopping or to work even. And yes, that really happened. Once. But after lying there for two hours I found that I could get out of the cuffs with a little squeezing – okay, a lot of squeezing – and then I just grabbed my clothes and lammed it. And that was the last time I saw her. And had sex actually, before you."

"Oh my god. I'm sorry you had it so bad. Though I'm glad she didn't spoil it completely for you."

"No, she didn't. Though I was a bit discouraged for a while."

"And I suppose you'll never want it in that position again?"

"Oh. Actually – I haven't really thought about it. You're right, we've never had you on top, have we?"

"Yeah, but that's okay, I don't want that anyway."

"Why? I think I'd like to try it with you."

"But – but I don't."

"Why not? Don't worry, I won't fall asleep. You're nothing like her."

"I know!"

"So?"

"I don't want to. Well, not now. Maybe later, when I'm –", and she pressed her lips together, avoiding his gaze.

"When …?" he prompted gently.

"When … when I'm not so heavy …" now she was crimson all over. Chandler just blinked at her confusedly.

"You're not too heavy. Actually I really don't mind that you're heavy. Which you aren't. Not to me at least." He put an arm around her and drew her close. "I want you just as you are."

"I know. I know that, but …"

"You won't crush me either if that's what you're afraid of. And I won't fall asleep, not with you. I just want you, no matter in what position. On top, sideways, doggy style, whatever. It doesn't matter, as long as it's with you." When she opened her mouth again he shushed her with his and for a good while they remained like that, locked in a close embrace and kissing until they ran out of air. When her breasts pressed against his chest, the nipples hardening again, it made his head swim with sweet desire, and he felt himself getting ready for round two at once. Then Monica drew back a bit, breathing hard, and smiling a little uncertainly.

"Um … what exactly is doggy style?!"


	7. A friend getting treated

"Hee-yy! Look who's finally heee-re!"

"Ross! What – Oh my god, Rachel!"

"Hi-i!" Rachel swooped in, smiling brightly at them as she surveyed the apartment. When Ross nearly fell over himself to relieve her of her mink jacket, she turned the smile briefly on him, fluttering her eyelashes, only to ignore him again a moment later. Monica, who had been on the point of getting up from the kitchen table where she had breakfast with Chandler, decided to stay put when she noticed the way Rachel's glance seemed to sweep almost dismissively across Chandler too.

"We're just at breakfast. Would you like to join us?" Ross was already almost falling over himself to pull out a chair for her and pouting when she chose the one next to it. "Thank you – oh, is someone already sitting here?" Her smile got a little fixed as she regarded the half-eaten melon on the plate before her.

"That's Joey's place. Why don't you sit over there?"

"Joey?" Her eyes widened. "Oh, but - is he here?"

"In the bathroom" Monica replied curtly.

"I didn't know that!" She turned to Ross reproachfully. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"That Joey's in the bathroom? Ugh!"

"No! That he's having breakfast here … I mean if I'd known that ..."

"But Joey's always having breakfast here. Well, his second breakfast anyway."

"And he doesn't take kindly to anyone else eating it" Chandler remarked dryly and Rachel hurriedly dropped the Bagel she'd fumbled at again.

"Well, in that case …" she changed her seat and turned her smile full voltage on Monica again. "Oh, Monica, I must say, this is a lovely kitchen! Sooo – nice!"

"Why, thank you, Rachel. Would you like some coffee?"

"Oh, decaf for me, thanks."

Monica silently counted to three before replying. "Sorry, I don't have decaf. Just regular coffee."

"Oh, but that's alright!" That brilliant smile again. "I think I'll be able to stand a bit of regular coffee … Um, but you do have Sweet'n Low? Oh, yes, thank you!" Monica clearly saw her wince as she tried to sip the coffee without really tasting it and felt her hackles go up again. Easy there, she reminded herself.

"So, Ross, how's the divorce going?" Chandler asked casually. Ross cleared his throat nervously.

"Um, we haven't – I mean, I haven't – I got an appointment with my lawyer on Monday. Carol wants to settle this quietly, so I don't think there'll be a problem. I'm going to need a place though."

"Oh, so do I!" Rachel cried and Monica frowned at her.

"I thought Barry was moving out? Can't you keep your apartment?"

"Oh, yeah, but I can't live there. It's too … I mean, it would always make me think of Barry, how he did it there with the dog walker …"

"Oh my god, and what did the dog say?!"

Rachel stared at Chandler blankly. "The dog? You mean LePoo? Oh, but she died!"

"LePoo's still alive?!"

"Too much for her, was it?"

"No, I told you she died! Last year actually." Rachel sniffed. "I bet it was the walker's fault."

"But … but she must have been ancient …"

"Who, the dog walker?"

"I meant LePoo!"

"Oh. Well, maybe. But I really couldn't - you know, sleep in the same bed and all -"

"But where do you want to live?"

"Oh, I don't know. Somewhere nice?" She put her hand on Monica's arm and smiled brilliantly at her. "Oh, maybe I could live here with you? That would be so much fun! Like in the old times!"

Monica gaped at her speechlessly and then turned to Ross, who winced and put on a sheepish expression when she glared at him.

"ROSS!"

"What? It was her idea!"

Monica took a deep breath to steady herself. "I'm sorry, Rachel, but no, that won't work."

"But why not?"

"Because … it would be too small for you. I've only one guestroom."

"But that's okay! I don't need much space."

"Really? What about your clothes and shoes?"

"Oh, but I don't need those all the time. We could put them upstairs –"

"Rachel, there is no upstairs."

"What? But I thought – "

"No. This is it." Monica gestured at the living-room. "The kitchen, the living-room and two bedrooms. That's it."

"Oh. But that's alri –"

"And the bathroom" Chandler put in dryly. "Mostly for Joey, you know. Speaking of which, what's keeping him?"

"Oh, you know Joey and his constitutionals ..."

"Right. And I need all of it for me and Chandler."

Rachel looked from her to Chandler and back uncertainly.

"You see, he's my boyfriend now and we're living together."

"But didn't you say, you were with a doctor?"

"I was. It's over. I dumped him."

"You dumped a DOCTOR?"

"You're welcome to him, if you want him."

"Oh no. I've got enough of doctors to last me a – oh, um, what is that?" Staring at the bathroom door she put a hand over her mouth as the others around the table rolled their eyes and groaned over the sounds of repeated flushing mixed with heated cursing in bad Italian. Monica sighed deeply and hurried to the bathroom door.

"Joey, please don't tell me you clogged it again? Oh no! How many times did I tell you –"

Joey emerged from the bathroom with a rather sheepish expression, wincing as everybody held their noses. "Sorry, guys. Just send me the bill, Mon, okay?"

But Monica held him back. "No, Joey, enough is enough. I'm not calling Treeger again. You do it and you settle this with him. Now!"

"Can I at least finish –"

"NOW!"

"Okay, okay! I'm going. I'm – oh, hi! Hey, Rachel, how you doin?"

"Um… hi …" Rachel fluttered her fingers at him as she tried to get her composure back. "Did you just – um …"

"Yes." Monica answered for him. "As usual. Joey, I really don't get why you can't use your own toilet –"

"I told you, I just can't relax properly at my place …"

"You have three toilets and you can't do it in any of them?" Joey winced.

"Maybe if you got rid of the phone in there?" Chandler suggested.

"And the mirror …" Ross added. Rachel's eyes widened even more.

"There's a mirror? I didn't see that!" That made Ross frown at her.

"Um, when did you – um …"

"Or the TV set" Monica added sweetly and Rachel's jaw dropped.

"It's not in every bathroom, just the one where, you know -" Joey sighed. "Alright, I'd better go looking for Treeger. Wish me luck." And with that he grimly marched to the door.

"Good luck, Joe! Go get him!"

"Hang in there!"

"You can do it!"

"Um, who's Treeger?" Rachel asked.

"He's the super of this building." Monica sat down again and poured herself some more coffee. "I hope Joey finds him before his first lunch break or he won't get to this until after the weekend."

"Oh. But couldn't he, you know, just phone someone, you know, to fix this?"

There was a pause as they all stared at Rachel. "Like who?"

"I don't know, a – a plumber?"

They all laughed as she stared at them in confusion. "What?"

"A plumber? Here? Oh god, even if we could get someone on such short notice, we never could afford him."

"Really? I had no idea!"

"It's easier to win the lottery than finding a plumber in New York."

"Oh dear. Um, and you really don't have another bathroom?"

"No, I'm sorry, Rachel, but this is it. Why, do you need -? Oh."

"Oh, that's okay, I can hold out a bit longer …"

"You could use Chandler's – I mean, Phoebe's. It's just across the hall."

"Oh, no, I really couldn't –"

Monica rolled her eyes. "It's okay, I cleaned it yesterday. And renewed the tissues too. I'm sure Phoebe won't mind. Um, where is she by the way? Shouldn't she be here by now?"

"Maybe she's still tired from the moving?"

"No, this isn't like her." Monica got up from the table. "I'll go and check on her."

"I'll come with you" Chandler said at once and the others chimed in as they got up. Rachel seemed a bit surprised, but joined them nonetheless as they marched across the hall. When they arrived at #19's door with Monica in the lead, they found that the door wasn't locked, which had Monica even more worried, especially when it occurred to her that Eddie could have returned in the night. She knocked repeatedly on the door and called out before entering the apartment.

"Phoebe? Are you here?" But the kitchen and living-room were empty and so was the bathroom.

"Phoebe?" Monica went over to Chandler's old room and had just raised her hand to knock on the door when she froze, trying to listen.

"Monica? What's going on?"

"Shsh! I just heard – Phoebe?!" There was a muffled thumping and the creaking of bedsprings, followed by a dull thud as if from a body hitting the floor.

"Phoebe! Are you in there?" Now she heard something else, a muffled 'Mmmm-hmmm' as if someone was trying to scream around a gag, and when she tried the door and found it locked, her alarm grew even more. "Oh god, Phoebe's locked in there!"

"Okay, stand back, Monica, I got this." Chandler gently pushed her to the side and then bent over to tug at the lower half of the door. Monica knelt down to peer through it as soon as the crack widened.

"Phoebe? Oh my god!"

She was lying on the floor where she had ended up when she had fallen from the bed, well tied up with an old clothes line and gagged, staring at them wild-eyed through her disheveled hair. The gag and the knots proved impossible to loosen with just their hands, and Chandler had to get a knife and scissors from the kitchen to free her. Finally they succeeded and Phoebe sat on the bed, coughing and panting.

"Oh god, what happened?"

"Ross, give her some time, okay?" But Phoebe waved her away. "No, it's okay – only, can I have a glass – oh, thank you, um, whoever you are –" Rachel who had fetched her a glass of water just smiled at her uncertainly while Monica stared at her in surprise.

"But that's Rachel! You met her in the coffeehouse, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, you threw up on Joey's — um, right!" When everybody started up in surprise and Monica rolled her eyes, she winced and took another sip of water. "Um, yeah, hi, pleased to meet you. Again." Still speechless, Rachel could only nod.

"Um, Phoebe, did Eddie do this? What happened?"

"Yeah, I know. It was so stupid. When I told him that I lived here now, he thought it was no longer safe for him, so he had to leave."

"But why did he tie you up?"

"Well, I tried to stop him and he didn't want that." Phoebe winced again and rubbed her wrists. "That son of bitch promised he wouldn't make the knots so tight! He said he only wanted to make sure I couldn't follow him … Ross, what are you doing?!"

"What's it looks like? I'm calling the police!"

"NO! Stop! Put down that phone right now!"

"But Phoebe …"

"PUT THAT PHONE DOWN!" When he still held on to it, she lunged at him and grabbed at the phone, wrenching it out of his hand.

"But he tied you! You could have suffocated!"

"You can't call the cops! They'll arrest me!"

"What? Phoebe that's craz-"

"Will you listen? Huh? Ross Eustace Geller, will you for once in your life do as you're told and listen?!" When she advanced on him, glaring at him wild-eyed and shaking the phone in his face, Ross finally backed off, muttering.

"Okay, okay. But he really shouldn't get away with this –"

"He won't. But leave it to me, okay?"

"Alright. But I don't understand. He tied you and locked you up! You could have died! You really should sue him!"

"Sue him?" For a moment she tried to hold back, then she gave up and laughed outright in his face. "Sue him! Wow, why didn't I think of that? I just wanted to kick his head in, but that's a much better idea!"

When Ross retreated still mumbling, she sat down on the sofa and sighed.

"Yeah, well, looks like he's gone for good now. That's too bad."

"Too bad? Phoebe …?"

"Yes, it's bad! I can't live here alone! I don't have a job anymore, and if I can't pay the rent, I can't live here anymore. Chandler, you wouldn't move in again, would you? Naw, thought as much."

"Sorry, Pheebs. Why don't you find yourself a new roommate?"

"How? I need to keep my head down or they'll find me!"

"Who's they?" Ross started, but Monica shushed him.

"Phoebe, don't worry about the rent. We'll help you out. At least we got rid of Eddie now."

"Yeah, I guess. Though I kinda liked him."

"What? That – that creep?"

"Oh, he wasn't so bad." Phoebe leaned back wearily and closed her eyes. "I've met worse. There was this stockbroker –"

"And how did he even manage to tie you up? Didn't you fight him?"

Phoebe grimaced. "He said we should celebrate my moving in with some wine and then he slipped me a mickey."

"That bastard, I'm gonna –"

"Pheebs, I'm so sorry!"

"Um, excuse me, I hate to interrupt, but … could I use your, um, you know …" Rachel blushed when they all stared at her.

"It's right there" Monica motioned towards the bathroom and smiled reassuringly at her old friend. Rachel darted in, only to back out again almost immediately.

"Um, the door doesn't lock …"

Chandler winced. "Yeah, sorry about that. Eddie took out the lock."

"Don't worry, we won't let anyone come in" Monica added. Rachel didn't seem very reassured by that, but went in regardless. When Ross moved to stand before the door Monica held him back, shaking her head.

"What?"

"Shsh! She can't stand it if someone hears her when she, you know – oh, just don't, okay?" And then it finally hit her. "Ross! You could be Phoebe's roommate!"

"What?"

"Actually that's a great idea. Yeah, you totally could!"

"But –"

"And you could move in right away! It's close to work too!"

"Yes, but –"

"It's perfect! Phoebe, what do you think? Wouldn't it be perfect?"

"Ross? Yeah, I guess. Wait, do you snore?"

"I do not!"

"Oh too bad. I like snoring. It makes me feel so safe!"

"What?"

"Maybe if you tried a nose clamp -?"

Ross closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Well … maybe, yeah, I'll think about it. It would be close to work. And to you two … But what about Rachel?"

"What about her?"

"What if she wants to live here?"

"Ross, it's even smaller than my apartment. It would never work!"

"But shouldn't we ask her?"

"Of course. But I thought you needed a place? What's wrong with this?"

Ross clamped his mouth shut, scowling, and Monica narrowed her eyes at him.

"Wait a minute. You want to move in with me? Is that it?"

"Well …"

"Forget it."

"But I'm your brother!"

"Yes, you are, and I want to stay friends with you. Which we can't if you move in. It would never work, Ross!"

"Why wouldn't it work? We did it before!"

"Yes, and after two weeks I was ready to kill you!"

"What?!"

"Oooh, interesting .." Phoebe put in, her eyes glinting. Monica ignored her.

"You drove me up the wall with your endless showers and your air purifier and your rock collection .."

"Fossils, they're fossils!"

"- which you scattered everywhere –"

"Because you wouldn't put up shelves!"

"And you kept hogging the phone and the TV – Ross, no. I'm sorry, but – no." When Ross still glared at her, she felt around for Chandler who was standing behind her, and took her hand in his, drawing him close. "Besides – Chandler is now living with me. Do you really want to be in the next room when we – you know?"

Ross eyes bulged as Phoebe tittered. "Oooh, you really don't want that Ross. Take it from me!"

"But – but you wouldn't – "

"Why not? What would you do? Tell Mom?"

For a second she thought she had gone too far and clenched her hand around Chandler's so hard she heard him hissing. Then Ross' shoulders slumped and he turned away dejectedly.

"Fine. If Rachel doesn't want to live here, I guess I will."

"Ooh, that's so great!" Phoebe skipped with joy, clapping her hands together.

"What's keeping Rachel anyway, shouldn't she be finished by now?"

Monica rolled her eyes. "You really don't remember her that well, do you? Twenty minutes is her minimum!"

"Come on Ross, I'll show you the room!" Phoebe tore open the door of Eddie's room and stood aside, motioning them in. Ross who went first, stopped dead on the doorstep.

"Oh my god, what is that – ugh, smells like dead fish!"

Phoebe craned her head to look over his shoulders. "Oh, yeah, that must be his aquarium. He thought the fish were still hibernating and told me to take good care of them."

"Phoebe, fish don't hibernate." Ross took a few more steps into the room, holding his nose. "My god, he took everything!"

"What? No. The bed's still there … the wardrobe …"

"The aquarium ..." Chandler added grinning. Monica squeezed past him to survey the room. It was indeed completely bare except for the stripped bed and an empty wardrobe that looked on its last legs. The aquarium that was still half filled with murky gray water stood below the window.

"But he must have had more!"

"Like what?"

"I don't know – chairs, shelves? Or Books, computers, stereo, CDs, DVR, DVDs, pictures …"

"No. He said he always traveled light, so he could leave anytime."

Phoebe squatted near the bed to look under it and then looked back at them with a stricken expression.

"Oh no. He took the dummy!"

.

.

She had to hand it to Chandler – it was only after three hours of helping her with the cleaning of Ross' future room that he started to show signs of flagging. Well, more like two and a half. But still. He had stayed with her the whole time, even helped with fetching things like the vacuum cleaner, buckets of water, rags, even a ladder to stand on when she cleaned the window and also offering to do it himself which she couldn't let him of course, and he hadn't complained even once, at least not really. It was even more gratifying for her since he could just as easily have joined Ross and Phoebe who had gone to pack up Ross' belongings and get a car to transport them. Or Joey who had promised to get one of his sisters and/or brothers-in-law to fix the clogged toilet after he hadn't been able to locate Treeger, and Rachel who, faced with the choice of helping with the moving or keeping Joey company, had gracefully opted for the latter which came to no one's surprise, except Ross of course. But now it seemed as if his patience was finally running out.

"Mon, you vacuumed that carpet three times already. It gave up the last of its dust already the second time around!"

"But that was before I put up the curtains. That could have stirred it up again."

"But you washed the curtains. And the rail. And you dusted the wall. Twice."

"Yes, but still –"

"And didn't you want to flip the mattress too? What if there's dust in it?"

"You think so? Oh, I can't remember, did I beat the mattress already?" When he rolled his eyes, she relented. "I'm sorry, Chandler."

"For what?"

"You know – all this – it's just, when I start to clean, I can't stop."

He put his arms around her from behind and pressed against her. "I know. I was there when you cleaned Joey's apartment, remember? If his mother hadn't arrived –"

"Oh god, she was so angry!"

"- then you'd still be there, cleaning on." His arms tightened around her and he started to nuzzle at her neck, gently sucking at the place where it joined her shoulder, until she started to shiver and breathe in sharply.

"Ummm … not that I'm complaining, but I really need to –"

"Shsh. Time-out, Mon. Just a minute. Mmmh…"

His lips wandered up her neck again to just under her chin and then moved over to her ear, nibbling at the lobe and she closed her eyes and arched her neck back until her head was resting on his shoulder, hardly noticing when the vacuum cleaner handle slipped from her grip. For a long moment they stood like that, gently swaying to and fro while she enjoyed the feel of his warm lips and his even warmer breath on her cheek and neck. Time-out. Right. She had never thought it possible that something or someone could distract her while she was cleaning, but this felt so … right. And important, much more important than going over the room one last or more probably second to last time. Mmmh, and the way he pressed against her from behind, fitting against her body until every curve and bulge was covered, felt so good … And now his hands started to roam a little, his hands slipping under the edge of her sweatshirt and bunching it up over her stomach while his fingertips slowly but surely approached her bra. Only when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her lips on his did she realize that she had turned around and that his hands were now on her back, already fumbling at her bra clasp while he kissed her back. The maneuver had brought them close to the bed with him standing with his back to it and without thinking she pushed at him until he fell on it backwards and then climbed on top and straddled him. For a split moment she thought he wouldn't be able to take her weight, but almost immediately his arms came up and wrapped around her, pulling her in for an urgent kiss. The feel of his body straining against her between her legs through her sweatpants made her head swim with sudden desire. Now her bra loosened and he cupped her breasts and pushed his tongue into her mouth at the same time. When she made as if to move off him however he held her back and she gave in and surrendered to his caresses again, shuddering when he pulled and tugged her sweatshirt off her and then kissed and sucked her breasts. She started to rub herself on his jeans where his erection was bulging the fabric already while she clawed at the buttons of his shirt, groaning loudly and bucking when he pushed a hand down her pants and slipped two fingers inside her. After a lot of wiggling and squirming her sweatpants and panties finally came off, but when she started on his jeans he slapped her hands away and instead pulled her further up and over him, scooting down at the same time until she was kneeling over his upper chest and then almost above his head, and he was still urging her forward … When it finally dawned on her what he wanted to do, she stiffened, clenching her hands in the mattress, and then weakly tried to wriggle out of his grasp. He kept at it determinedly however, holding her in place with his arms tightly wrapped around her hips and buttocks and then she already felt him nuzzle her, his hot breath tickling her as his mouth came up against her labia, and oh god, she could feel his tongue now as he was licking her … For a long moment she just hovered over him, numb with shock as her brain tried to come to terms with this completely new stage in their sex-life, unable even to protest. She hadn't even considered getting on top before and now she was not only on top but also getting a – what did they call it? Pussy eating? Licking? Head? Maybe blowjob, or was that only for guys – and, oh dear sweet god, now he was even pushing his tongue into her, his hot wet slippery tongue, and it was the most awesome feeling ever, as if he had he stuck a live wire of lust and ecstasy into her, in the very moment she was starting to freak out about it. Which she still was, but couldn't do anything about it because she was unable to stop this, make it stop, because it was just too good to stop, too goddamn great, wonderfully fucking great. All she could still do was scream, and shake and buck against him rhythmically, and scream some more, until her throat was giving out. She only noticed that he had stopped when he had wriggled up the bed and came up under her again, his hat long lost and his glasses askew, frantically pushing down his jeans and boxers at the same time. As soon as his erect penis sprang free she grabbed it and pushed herself on it, moaning with deep pleasure as it slid into her, up her, in what felt like a completely new way, rubbing against her vaginal walls in places she didn't remember feeling before, not like this at least. Now he was groaning too, and clenching his hands on her thighs while they strained against each other and slowly found their rhythm.

"Yesyesyes … like that, ooooh, like that … oh god, oh my god, ah, ah, ah …"

She had always thought that she preferred it when he was lying on her with his full weight, and she could feel all of his body against hers while they moved together, but this was so good too, much more intense than she could ever have imagined. It was almost too much, especially when she looked down at herself and watched herself moving on him while he kept sliding in and out of her, panting and heaving while he went, and it was all she could do not to lose control completely. When she felt herself approaching the brink she reached out for his shoulders and he heaved himself up into a near sitting position, holding her tightly to him and kissing her just as her orgasm hit. She clung to him as he worked his way to his own climax and then let go, slumping and then slowly rolling off him, until she lay on her back beside him.

"Whew … oh my god … hey, are you okay?!"

"Yeah." Her eyes were still closed as she grinned widely and grabbed for his hand. "That was … that was … unbelievable."

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Wow." She heard him take a deep breath. "See? I told you!"

"What?"

"That you weren't … that you could do it."

She stretched out luxuriously, thoroughly enjoying the languid feeling of satiation and total relaxation. "Yeah … so great. Almost feels like I lost three more pounds ..."

That made him jump. "What?! Three more? Oh my god!"

"Kidding ..! But mmmmmh … sooo good …"

Dimly she felt him shifting beside her until he was lying on his side with one arm over her. For some time they remained like that and she almost started to drift away already when he started to kiss her cheek and brushed his lips over her mouth.

"Mon …?"

"Hmmmm…?"

"I could stay like this all night, but if we don't want to risk Ross walking in on us, maybe we should go back to our own bedroom?"

"Mmmh – um, huh? What?" She sat up abruptly, blinking at him. "Ross? Oh my god!"

"Just saying, you know –"

"Oh god, you're right! What time is it?"

He squinted at his watch and shrugged. "Don't know, I think it's stopped …"

She looked around frantically for her underwear and sweats and tore into them as fast as she could, groaning when the top ended up wrong way around and she had to get out of it again to turn it around. Chandler followed suit, though much less hurried. When they were both fully dressed again, she heaved a deep sigh of relief and Chandler drew her close, grinning as they kissed.

"You know, for what it's worth, I'm glad we did it here. This is probably the most sex this bed will ever see."

She giggled. "You know, for what it's worth, that wasn't quite what I meant when I said we needed to beat the mattress." She tightened her arms around him. "But it was totally worth it!"


	8. Two friends' first week's anniversary

"That's it? That's how much you pay for rent?"

For a moment Chandler thought the world had gone tilt. Here he was, in Monica's – in their – kitchen on Sunday afternoon, trying to steel himself for the dreaded talk about how they would divide all the household costs between them and her reaction when he would reveal his financial situation to her, and now feeling as if the rug had been drawn from under his feet and he was suspended in space. Floating rather, feeling light as a feather suddenly with deeply felt relief.

"Yes. Why? Is it too much?"

"Too much? It's about a quarter of the rent for my place!"

"Really?"

"How can it be so little?"

Monica looked confused. "What are you talking about? The apartment's rent controlled."

"Ah, that's it. I completely forgot about that. But still, I never thought it would make that much of a difference!"

"But I don't understand. Isn't your place rent controlled too?"

"No. It probably was for the guy who used to live there before me, but since he wasn't my grandfather they raised the rent as soon as they found he'd breathed his last."

"Oh" Monica raised her hands to her mouth. "I didn't know that. My grandma told me the whole building was rent controlled."

"Yeah, but only for everyone who lived here already when dinosaurs roamed the earth. I only moved in here, what, 9 years ago?"

"So that's why you always needed money!"

Chandler winced. "Yeah, and why I put up with Eddie through all those years after Joey moved out."

Monica looked relieved. "So are you gonna be okay with this? Because I can manage on my own, if you –"

"Of course I'm okay! More than okay. In fact, now I've got enough over to take you out to dinner tonight."

Monica's eyes widened. "What? No, you really don't have to do-"

"I so do. It's our one week's anniversary, remember?"

"Oh my god! You're right, it's Sunday! I totally forgot!" Now she gazed at him adoringly. "How sweet of you to remember!"

Chandler suddenly found himself growing hot under his collar and had to clear his throat. "Yeah, well – so what else is there? Electricity? Phone?'

"Here. But it's really not that much –"

"That's your phone bill? That does seem rather a lot though –"

"Most of it's from Phoebe actually. And from you."

"From me? Since when –"

"Since your phone was cut off, remember?"

"Oh. Um. Right. Guess I'd better take that too. Is that okay? We share the rent, I pay the phone and you the electric?"

Monica wavered for a moment and then grinned. "Okay!"

"Ho-okay …" Chandler heaved a deep sigh of relief. "Wow, I never thought it would be that easy!"

"I know! I thought it would take all afternoon, and here we are already, all finished!" Monica positively beamed. "Ooh, I know, how about we start on orientation now?"

Chandler winced. "Um – yeah, by all means – only I'd much rather we decided now where we should go tonight. Is there a place you really like?"

"Hmmm. I'm not sure … there are so many …" Monica frowned, then suddenly her face lit up. "Oh I know! We could stay here and I could make the same things I did last Sunday!"

"You mean, oysters and couscous?" Chandler grimaced. "Actually, if it's all the same to you, I'll pass." When her face fell, he winced again. "I'm just not all that fond of oysters …"

"But you liked them last week!"

"Not really. I thought it would cheer you up if I ate them. But think about it, all that stuff would just remind us of Dr. Roger. And we don't want that."

She clapped a hand on her mouth. "Oh my god! You're right! I've completely forgotten about him! Well, what if I cook something different? Something you like?"

"Mac & Cheese? You did that yesterday. Come on, what's going on? Don't you want to go out with me?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Oh, I do! It's just, I'm – I'm not sure what to wear."

He was baffled. "But you have lunch with your mother every week and you always look nice, why can't you wear that? Or that outfit you had on last week -" When she still refused to look at him, he bent forward and put his hand on hers. "It's not you, isn't it? It's that I have nothing to wear, right?"

Now she was crimson all over. "I made room for your clothes in my wardrobe and it turned out not even half of it was needed. What happened to all those suits you used to have?"

Chandler sighed. "I gave them away. I know, it was stupid, but I thought they would only remind me of that stupid job I used to have. That stupid well-paying job."

Her gaze softened. "You were right to quit that job. But you should have kept at least one suit. You know, for things like funerals and stuff."

"Or romantic dinners with my hot girlfriend? You're totally right. So what if I told you that it's no problem?"

"What? You have a suit? Where?"

Chandler smirked. "Not yet. It's being delivered." Now her eyes almost popped out as she stared at him. "In fact, it should arrive any minute now –"

"But how?"

"You'll see."

"Chandler!" Almost whining now. But just when he was getting worried that she would wrangle it out of him, Phoebe came in, with hardly a knock, looking rather preoccupied.

"Hey, it's Phoebe! Hi, how's life with Ross? You want to kill him yet?"

"Um, yeah, not bad. Um, actually, I need to talk with Monica, could we – " and she indicated the bathroom. Monica's eyes widened, but she got up to let herself almost be pushed to the bathroom by Phoebe, who firmly closed the door behind them. Chandler shrugged and went back to studying the documents in Monica's big folder labelled 'Apartment Stuff'. After hardly a minute of intense but indistinct murmuring however the two women came out again and headed straight for the bedroom, closing the door once more behind them. Chandler raised his eyebrows at that, but stayed put, figuring that he'd get to know soon enough. Monica had never been able to keep a secret for long, especially not if it was someone else's.

He was just scrutinizing Monica's last utilities statement to see if they had missed out on some costs, when Ross came in, also without knocking and with a rather harried look on his face.

"Hi Chandler. Oh, is Monica here?"

"Hi. She's in the bedroom. How's it going? You getting along with Phoebe okay?"

"With Phoebe? Oh, with Phoebe. Sure. Why do you ask? I'm not her chaperon -"

"Okay, okay, calm down man. I was just asking because you moved in with her only yesterday –"

"Yeah, right. Um, Chandler, could you – um, I need – but don't tell Monica, okay?"

When Chandler stared at him completely bewildered, Ross sighed and dropped on the chair next to him.

"Tell her what? That the dinosaurs are coming back?"

"No!" Ross squirmed. "I – I just need some condoms. Have you got any? And no questions!"

Chandler who had already opened his mouth, just blinked at him confusedly. "Alright … yeah, but they're in the bedroom. Do you need them right now or –"

"Yes please – yes. I do need them."

Still puzzled Chandler got up and headed for the bedroom where he knocked and put his head in before entering.

"Honey? I just need to fetch something, be out in a sec." Monica and Phoebe were sitting on the bed seemingly caught up in some deeply emotional conversation. While Phoebe ignored him, Monica shrugged helplessly and smiled at him. Chandler grinned back and opened the top drawer of Monica's nightstand (their nightstand his mind corrected almost automatically) where they kept the condoms. Except they weren't there now. The box was gone.

"Mon? Did you take the condoms – oh." He stared as both women winced and Phoebe clutched the box with the condoms to her chest.

"Yes, I need condoms, and I can't go out right now, so – why do you need condoms? Do you want to do it right now? With Monica?"

"What? No! Um, it's just - Monica, can I talk to you for a second?"

He took her by the hand and drew her to what he thought was reasonably out of earshot.

"What is it, what's going on?"

"Ross wants condoms too!"

"What?!"

"Shhh! He's outside, waiting for me! What should I do?"

"Ross wants condoms? For what?" When she realized that she'd been loud enough for Phoebe, it was too late.

"Well, he can't have them, they're mine now!" Still clutching the box Phoebe rushed to the door, only to come to a dead stop when she saw Ross pacing in the kitchen. Chandler and Monica followed her out and watched silently as their respective ex-roommates stared at each other dumbstruck.

Phoebe recovered first. "Oh, there you are! Right, I – have to go. Alright, see you later!" And with that she almost ran to the door. Ross swallowed heavily, his eyes darting around, then he put on a fake grin and caught up with Phoebe at the door, catching the handle from her as she darted across the hallway.

"Yeah, me too … I – um, see you!"

"Ross, wait! Ross, what's going on? What are you doing?" But it was no use, her brother managed to shut the door just as Monica got to it. When she wanted to run after him, Chandler held her back.

"No, Monica, wait. Let them go."

"But it's Ross! And Phoebe!"

"So?"

"But – but …"

"They'll tell us when they're ready. Maybe it's not what you think-"

"What else could it be?"

"Um – maybe they wanted to have a water balloon fight?"

Monica ignored him. "Oh my god, Ross and Phoebe! That's – that's huge!"

"I hope not, those condoms are only regular sized ... wait, what are you doing?"

Monica shook him off impatiently and threw the door open, only to run into Phoebe who had turned back again.

"Oh! Yeah, I almost forgot. I'm playing tonight at the coffeehouse, so if you want to see that you need to be there. Um, I have to go now. See you!" And with that she rushed back into #19, shutting the door almost in their faces and leaving Chandler and Monica in the hallway looking at each other rather nonplussed. They almost didn't notice Joey walking towards them until he had joined them and frowned at #19's door.

"Hey, what's going on? Monica?"

"Ross and Phoebe are doing it!" Monica blurted out, making Chandler wince.

"I still say, it could be just a water balloon fight! Hey, Joe. Um, did you-?"

Joey looked from him to Monica and back again, totally confused now. "Ross and Phoebe? Nah."

"I'm telling you! They both wanted condoms from us!"

"As I said, maybe it was for a water balloon fight …"

Joey winced. "Um, no, condoms are no good for that. Unless they're extra-large?" Now Chandler winced slightly. "But I thought Ross was into Rachel? Well, anyway, I got your suit – here. Actually I brought two, I wasn't sure about your size."

"Aw, thanks man." Chandler relieved Joey of the suits he had hung over his arm by the coat-hangers. To Monica who stared at them wide-eyed: "See? I told you I would get them delivered!"

"You – you borrowed a suit from Joey? But –"

"No, they're not mine. They're from the DOOL props. Wardrobe. Whatever. You're welcome. Say, Monica, you got any juice? And the sandwiches?" As he headed towards Monica's – their – kitchen rather purposefully, Chandler and Monica looked at each other and he shrugged apologetically.

"I'm sorry, but you can't expect him to do it totally for free –"

Monica however was still preoccupied with their two new neighbors. "I still think we should talk to them!"

"Seriously? You really want to go there now? Well, I really really don't."

"But –"

"Just think about it, what if they're doing it on the kitchen counter right now?"

"On the counter?" That actually made Joey change his course and Chandler had to physically stop him from going across the hall too. "Well, I hope they have more luck with that than I did." He grinned with the reminiscence and Chandler shuddered. "You remember when you walked in on me and Juliet –"

"Julia. Yes, I do. Now do you still want to go there?"

Monica wavered and then gave up. "Fine. But we really need to talk to them!"

"Yes, but later. Now we should think of our anniversary. So, which suit should I wear?"

"Why don't you try on both? And take your time!" Joey added, heading to the fridge once more to help himself to everything he needed to assemble his sandwiches. When he dove headfirst into it until only his backside was visible, Chandler thought it more prudent to retire to the bedroom with the suits.

He was just hunting through his newly appointed section of Monica's (their) wardrobe for a shirt when he thought he heard someone come in. Ross and Phoebe finished so soon? But when he emerged from the bedroom after a brief but intense struggle with suit #1, he found that Rachel had joined the others on the couch waiting for him. As he strode towards Joey and came to a stop right before him, glaring at him, everyone seemed struck dumb. Monica's eyes had widened until the white around the blue was visible and Rachel pressed a hand on her mouth to stifle her giggling.

"Um, dude, your shirt's stuck in the –"

"It's not the only thing that's stuck! This isn't my size! What were you thinking?"

"How should I know your size?!"

"I made you write it down!" When he grabbed Joey's arm to push up the sleeve and reveal the writing on his arm, Joey grinned sheepishly.

"Stupid long sleeves … yeah, sorry 'bout that."

"You can save your apologies to the wardrobe manager when she asks about the split zipper." Joey winced again.

"Well, the jacket's not too bad …" Rachel offered. When Chandler just flapped his arms with the too long sleeves at her, she shrugged. "So you roll them up!"

"Oh, sure, and maybe you have a time machine too, so we can go back to 1984 when Miami Vice was still cool?"

"So you go for the retro look! Now, if you lose that cap too –"

"My lucky cap?! No way!"

Rachel shrugged dismissively and now Monica got up.

"Um, honey, please get out of that suit, I really can't look at it … Why don't you try the other one? I'll help you!"

As it turned out the jacket of the other one fit, but the pants were much too long.

"Maybe I could wear just the jacket and jeans?"

"But not with this shirt, it doesn't match."

"Well, another shirt then."

"But I put your shirts in the laundry."

"All of them?"

"They were dirty!"

Chandler sighed. "A t-shirt then. Um. Don't tell me. In the laundry too? You mean I don't have anything left to wear?"

Joey put his head through the door. "What are you guys woofing about?"

"Monica's taken away all my clothes!" Chandler informed him. "Apparently she wants me to walk around town naked."

"Nice!"

"Chandler!"

"Yeah, alright. So, I need a shirt. A good shirt that matches this jacket … hey, what about yours?"

"Dude, you can't take my shirt! That's mine!" Joey hurriedly retreated into the living room and Chandler sighed and started to take off the second suit.

"I guess we'll have to celebrate our one week's anniversary at the laundromat then." Monica's face brightened at that.

"Oohh, what a great idea! We could wash all your stuff! That'll be so much fun!"

Chandler took off the suit pants and the jacket and, still in his underwear, took her into his arms. As she returned his kiss and things just started to get heated, they both heard a knock on the apartment door.

"I'll get it!" Rachel called from the living room and Monica relaxed again, hugging him tighter. The part of him that wasn't primarily taken up with the sweet pressure of her breasts against his chest and the feel of her mouth on his just had time enough to raise the question of who would ring Monica's doorbell instead of just walking in when he heard Rachel talking to their visitor.

"Hi!"

"Oh. Um, is Monica Geller here …?"

Chandler and Monica both froze at the sound of that polite, yet so pompous and even in greeting utterly boring voice.

Roger. Dr. Boring. Dullness incorporated had finally caught up with them. He saw how Monica's eyes widened and the color left her face and for just a moment the old doubt and jealousy crept back into his heart. What if she changed her mind – but no, even before he could finish that thought he felt her straightening and breathing in deeply, and saw a determined look come into her eyes.

"Yes, she's here. Monica! It's – um, I didn't –"

"Dr. Roger, pleased to meet you, Miss -?"

"Oh! Oh, a doctor …?!" Chandler peered through the slightly open bedroom door and grinned when he perceived Rachel immediately change gears and give the doctor another appraising once-over as she smiled brilliantly at him and offered her hand.

"I'm Rachel Farb-, er, Rachel Green. Monica's friend."

Roger smiled vaguely at her and then suddenly did a double take.

"Green? As in Dr. Green?"

"Yes, that's my father. Do you know him?"

Now Roger looked puzzled. "I've been working with him for fourteen years now. Has he never mentioned me?"

As he gleefully watched Rachel's smile freeze on her face Chandler tried to hold Monica back. He would have loved to see Rachel wrangle her way out of this on her own, but Monica shook him off and marched into the living-room. He wanted to follow her but realized just in time that he was still in his underwear and went back in to retrieve his pants. When he finally came out into the living-room, Monica was standing over Roger who had sat down on the couch and now blinked up at her confusedly.

"But you said you broke your leg!"

Monica rolled her eyes. "No, I said I needed to break up with you! I wanted to tell you in person, but I couldn't get you on the phone!"

"Maybe you should have beeped him –", Joey put in dryly. Chandler watched as his ex-roommate suddenly grinned with delight and started rummaging in his pockets.

"We are really broken up?" Now Roger looked totally bewildered and Monica sighed.

"I'm afraid so. It's over. I'm with Chandler now." She put her arm around Chandler's waist when he came to stand beside her.

"With Chandler?! Oh. Okay. But – I don't understand. Why - how did it happen?"

"Why? You're asking me why?" Just as Monica paused dramatically Roger's beeper went, making him start up. "Yes! Exactly! That's why!"

"But – that can't be, I'm off duty now –", Roger stared at the beeper's display. "No, this can't be right. Who's Dr. Drake?"

Chandler gave Joey a thumbs-up behind Monica's back.

"You're always getting beeped!"

"But of course – I have to, it could be urgent –"

"Even when you're off duty?!"

"Oh my god!" Rachel exclaimed. "I remember you now! You're Dr. Beep!" When everyone turned to stare at her, she got flustered. "I mean – that's what my father always … well –"

Joey nearly fell out of his chair laughing as Roger stared at Rachel. "What?!"

Monica sighed and sat down next to him, taking his hand that was still clutching the beeper. "There. See? You're always on call. While Dr. Green is out golfing –"

"Sailing" Rachel corrected.

"Sailing, and the other doctors are making a night of it, you always respond when they call you, and you do all the work for them."

"But somebody has to do it!"

"Of course. But you're not the only one there. Why don't you let the others do it once in a while?"

"But … what should I do?"

Monica gently took the beeper from him and put it on the table, the look in her eyes almost maternal now.

"Turn it off."

Roger stared at her open-mouthed. "Turn it off?"

"Yes."

"Turn it off, turn it off, turn it off …" Joey chanted and Chandler and Rachel joined in. Dr. Roger looked close to panicking.

"I don't know how" he confessed. "Let's see – oh, there it is. You mean, I really need to –"

Monica just nodded decisively.

"What if I just turn it to vibrate –"

Monica silently shook her head and Roger's shoulders slumped. When he still hesitated over the off button, Joey started up his chant again.

"There!" Dr. Roger held up the turned off beeper triumphantly. "It's off!" Joey started to cheer, but Monica waved him off.

"Your back-up beeper too" she said sternly and Roger's expression suddenly turned furtive.

"My back-up -?"

"Yes. I know you got one. Take it out."

Roger slowly put a hand in his pocket and then hesitated again. Chandler saw pearls of sweat gathering on his forehead.

"You know, I think I left it at home … hey, what are you doing? No!" Monica triumphantly held up the back-up beeper she had snatched from his shirt pocket.

"Oh, please Monica, no, not my back-up – NO!" Jumping up he tore it out of her hand, then grabbed his main beeper from the table and started to walk backwards to the door, sweating freely now, his eyes darting around nervously.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go now – I think they tried to reach me just now – I … Well, see you!"

"Roger, wait!" Monica ran after him. "If you leave now, you can't ever come back. I can't see you again ever!"

Roger actually hesitated for a moment and Chandler held his breath, suddenly anxious. But then the doctor straightened his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Monica. They need me at the hospital. I'm on duty. I'm always on duty."

Monica nodded gravely and held the door open for him, deftly evading him when he tried to kiss her. "Yes you are. Goodbye Roger."

For a split second the doctor hesitated again, lingering on the doorstep until Monica actually gave him a slight push and shut the door almost in his face. Then she turned around and leaned back against the doorframe, looking vastly relieved. When Chandler rushed to her, she threw her arms around him.

"I did it! Chandler, I did it! I finally got rid of Dr. Roger!"

"Yeah, you did! That was amazing!" Joey came too and patted Monica on the back. Chandler clapped him on the shoulder in genuine gratitude.

"Thanks man. That was a great idea you had." Joey smirked.

"Too bad he couldn't let go of his beeper." That was Rachel. "I mean, apart from that he was really nice! And a doctor! Monica, you never told me your boyfriend's Dr. Beep!"

"Ex-boyfriend" she corrected. "You're quite welcome to him." Rachel winced.

"So! What do you say we celebrate this?" Joey rubbed his hands together. "Let's get pizza! Oh, Monica, could you make some of those cupcakes?"

Chandler rolled his eyes. "Joey, you're the famous TV star. You've probably got more money than all of us put together. If anyone should get us cupcakes, it should be you!"

"But Monica's cupcakes are the best!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Mister." But she still looked pleased.

"Oh, I know!" Rachel clapped her hands together. "Why don't we go to Joey's place to celebrate?"

When everyone failed to approve of her idea, she looked puzzled. "What? Joey?" But he evaded her eyes, looking sheepish, and Chandler sighed.

"We can't go to Joey's place on weekends. That's when his sisters are there. They take over the flat every weekend."

"Sisters? But that's not so bad –"

"He's got seven sisters, Rachel." Monica cut in. "Plus I don't know how many nephews and nieces –"

"And grand-nieces and nephews …"

"Seven…?" Rachel repeated weakly, staring at Joey. "Oh my god, I've got two sisters, and that's already way too much, but seven?"

"So, yeah, my flat's out. Why can't we stay here? We're always here, what's wrong with here?" Joey determinedly turned his back on them and marched back to the fridge, putting his head in. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving!"

Chandler sighed again and flapped his arms helplessly.

"Guys … Guys! It's our one week anniversary today, and we actually had plans to – oh no, what now?" There was a knock on the door. Before he could even think of getting it however it was flung open and Phoebe stalked in. At least he thought at first that it was Phoebe, but almost immediately realized that it couldn't be her. Even at her most obnoxious Phoebe had never looked that bitchy, not even when she was that spitting mad like her double seemed to be right now.

"Um … Ursula?!"

"Where's Phoebe?" she demanded curtly.

"Good to see you too. Won't you come in?" Out of the corner of his eyes Chandler saw Rachel staring and whispering a question to Monica while Joey tried to sink out of sight as unobtrusively as possible behind the fridge door. Ignoring them Ursula headed straight for her sister's old room. When she found it empty, she turned around again.

"Where are you hiding her?"

"Excuse me?" For a moment Chandler thought she would jump at him and when Monica came up beside him he was tempted to hide behind her for a short moment.

"Phoebe's moved out." Monica stated matter-of-factly which seemed to throw Ursula off her stride.

"She moved? She can't move! I need to talk to her! Get her back here now!"

"Why? You haven't talked to her in years. What's so urgent right now?" Monica asked innocently. Ursula opened her mouth to retort and then suddenly caught herself.

"Yeah. Okay. Never mind. She's in the other aprtment, isn't she?" And turning on her heel she ran to the door and across the hallway before they could stop her. Finding #19's door locked she started to hammer on it.

"Phoebe! I know you're in there! Open up!"

Chandler barely managed to hold Monica back before she could run after Phoebe's twin.

"No, leave her. It's not our problem!"

"But it's Phoebe! And Ross!"

Joey put his foot in the door when Chandler tried to close it. "No, no, this is going to be good! I want to watch!" Chandler rolled his eyes and stood aside as they all watched Ursula continue to kick and hammer on #19's door. Until it was suddenly flung open by Ross wearing only his jeans and his 'Frankie says Relax' t-shirt that had gotten considerably too small for him. His angry glare turned into almost comical surprise when he caught sight of Ursula.

"What's going on?"

"I could ask the same thing." Ursula retorted haughtily. "Where's Phoebe?!"

"Who are you?!" he asked, now completely bewildered. "What are you – ouch! Hey! You can't go in there! Stop – no … Oh my god …"

Ursula had gone around him, stepping hard on his toe too and was now marching into the living-room. Ross cursed and tried to stop her, hopping on one foot, but thought better of it when Phoebe opened the upper half of her door, caught sight of her sister and slammed it shut again immediately. Then Joey darted in to drag Ross out into the hallway.

"Come on, better leave them alone –"

"But shouldn't we help her?"

"Nah, they have to fight it out by themselves." Joey gave Ross a final push and shut the door on the two sisters who were now yelling at each other through the door of Chandler's old room. As soon as he had gotten Ross safely across the hall and into #20, he turned on him with an expectant grin.

"So? You and Phoebe? What's that like?"

"JOEY!" Ross' self-satisfied smirk faded again as Monica glared at him.

"I can't believe it! My brother and my best friend! What were you thinking?"

Ross stared at her open-mouthed. "What? What are you talking about? Nothing's happened!"

"Oh yeah? Then how come you took our condoms? And you're half naked?"

"I didn't take your condoms!" he spat.

Joey clapped him on the back. "But you hooked up, right?"

Ross glared. "Look, it's not like that, okay? Actually we have a lot in common. We've both had a lot of stress lately –"

"And no sex for months …" Joey leered, winking knowingly.

"Right, and - - what?! No!" Ross shook him off irritably. "Oh, um, hi Rachel, didn't see you there. What are you doing here?"

Rachel's smile looked a little strained. "Nice t-shirt! Um, I thought you wanted to take me to dinner …?"

Ross' face fell. "Oh. Um. Yeah, that's right – but I can't go like this, can I? Unless Chandler could lend me –"

"Sorry, man, Monica put all my shirts in the laundry. My t-shirts too."

"Well, then I guess we'll have to stay here –"

"Finally!" Joey clapped him on the back. "Let's get pizza! Monica, do you still have that Die Hard tape?"

Monica resignedly pointed to the TV console and Joey started digging through the drawer with the videos with Rachel looking over his shoulder.

"Guys? Guys!" When nobody heeded him, Chandler stepped in front of the TV and flapped his arms around to get their attention.

"We can't stay here, okay? Monica and I want to celebrate our one week's anniversary and –"

"One week? Has it been that long already?"

"But why can't you do it here?" Joey asked indignantly and Chandler groaned. "Here is goooood! I wanna stay here!"

"And I'm not going anywhere like this!"

"Oooh, 'Weekend at Bernie's'! Could we watch that too?" Rachel clutched the video case to her chest, her eyes shining. "That's like my favorite movie!"

Chandler suddenly realized that nothing that he did would make any difference – shouting, throwing things at them, leave the room – so he might as well save his breath and his dignity too. Turning his back on his friends he joined Monica in the kitchen where she was already happily preparing huge platters of snacks and nibbles.

"I'm so sorry, Monica. I tried, but – ", he gestured towards the couch where Joey and Rachel were still arguing over which movie to watch first. "It's like talking to a horde of monkeys!"

"I know." Monica smiled tenderly at him. "It's okay."

"It's not okay! It's our one week's anniversary!"

"I know! I'm sorry too." She leaned closer, nestling against him and patted his cheek. "But we can't leave anyway. Phoebe's playing tonight, remember? I don't know about you, but I want to be there."

Chandler sighed. "Yeah, you're right, I kinda want to see that too. I wonder if she'll do a song about water balloons?"

Monica laughed. "Well, anyway, I thought that we could have our own private celebration here afterwards. What do you think?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't intrigued …!"

When he kissed her on her neck, nibbling on her shoulder blade, she shuddered deliciously. "And I was thinking, since it's a special day – that I could take the test?"

"The test - ? Oh, that test. Um. Isn't it still too early?"

"Maybe. But I would like to try." She smiled at him hopefully and Chandler felt as if his guts were slowly melting in his abdomen.

"Okay … if we can get rid of all those people afterwards… and if Phoebe doesn't get killed by her sister … yes, then by all means, let's do it!" Monica skipped with joy and he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, closing his eyes when they kissed.

"Hey, you two, stop smooching. The movie's starting! Chandler, can you get me some beer?"

Reluctantly Chandler let Monica go, silently counting to five in his head while she patted his back sympathetically. Later, he promised himself. Afterwards. And it was going to be so good. He would see to that.

.

.

Much later Chandler found himself on Monica's/their balcony, leaning against the railing and desperately longing for a cigarette while he was waiting for Monica to come out of the bathroom. He had given up smoking years before when it simply became too expensive, especially since Eddie had kept stealing his cigarettes no matter how carefully he tried to hide them. He didn't miss it much, mostly the habit had been only that – a habit that had been quite easy to shed too, except on some occasions like after finishing a piece of writing that he was particularly proud of, or when he couldn't go to sleep. Or like right now.

What if the pregnancy test was positive? He dutifully tried to think about it, all the consequences and how it would affect his life – both their lives – but his thoughts kept glancing off the subject, straying from it, and then circling back. It was simply too huge. Getting together with Monica had been a big enough life change to last him for all his foreseeable future already and most of the times he still couldn't believe his good luck. And now a baby on top of all that? Of course they would manage somehow, especially Monica, he had no doubt of that at all. And their friends would help too, if only in their own way and as much as they could bring themselves too. Chandler grinned wryly thinking back to the evening in the coffeehouse. Except for Monica and him they all had looked forward so much to celebrating everything there was to celebrate: the final hours of the weekend, Phoebe's return to the coffeehouse stage, Ross' moving, all their respective life changes – it was strange, but true how nearly all their lives had made a complete turnaround in the last week, not just his and Monica's. Well, except Joey's maybe. But as the evening drew on everyone's mood had seemed to take a turn for the worse. Ross had been worried about his divorce, and how it would affect his life and work, and probably about whatever foolishness he and Phoebe had been up to and how it would affect their friendship. When Phoebe chose to ignore him completely and instead kept ranting at her work and ex bosses in her songs, both seemed to get more maudlin and bitter by the hour. Joey hadn't stopped bitching about having to work early next morning and Rachel had put the icing on the cake by complaining about how bored she was with having nothing to do to everyone who cared to listen. Incidentally one of those who did had been Gunther, and Chandler laughed out loud at the memory of Rachel's face when the manager had spontaneously offered her a job as waitress.

In the end the only ones still in a good mood had been Monica and himself. There, sitting next to her on the couch and watching his friends glumly contemplating their prospects, he had felt truly blessed. Everything had turned out for the best for him and Monica. And whatever would happen, they would always have that –

"Chandler?"

For a moment he froze, his hands clenching on the banister, then he pulled himself together and hurriedly scrambled back into the living-room. Monica was standing in the door of the bathroom, looking at him with a strange expression on her face he couldn't read. Exasperation? Disappointment? Resignation? Shame? A bit of all and that more. When he held out his arms to her, she tried to smile, but her lips were trembling too much.

"Is it positive?" he asked hoarsely. "Are you –"

Monica stared at him silently for a moment and then slowly shook her head.

"No" she said finally. "No, I'm not."

"Are you sure? Maybe it's still too early –" but she shushed him before she could finish.

"I'm not pregnant, Chandler." She looked down on her hand that still clutched the pregnancy test and attempted a weak smile. "Actually I – I didn't really take it, that is I didn't need to." She looked up again and took a deep breath. "Actually I bled on it."

It took him a moment for her words to make sense. "You what –? Ooh, you mean, you're on your –"

"Yes!" Now her lower lip trembled. "I made a mistake! I'm so stupid!"

"No, you're not. What mistake?"

"About my period in my calendar!" Now she was almost wailing. "I got the date wrong! It was a week earlier! All the time I was worried I could be pregnant when I couldn't have been!"

"Sh. It's okay." He put his arms around her and drew her close, stroking her hair.

"It's not okay!" She pressed her face against his shoulder, her voice muffled by his shirt. "It's our anniversary!"

"So? It's still our anniversary."

"But – but I'm – we can't –"

"What?" For a moment he was genuinely puzzled. "Oh, you mean – but that's alright. It doesn't matter. Honestly!"

"Really? But … but it's gross …!"

"Gross? No."

"But I thought guys hated that –"

"Sh. Well, I don't. Yes I'm sure." He kissed her on the temple and then on the lips. "Tell you what, you get back in there and get rid of that thing, and brush your teeth and then we'll go to bed. That okay?"

She looked at the test still clutched in her hand and winced, then kissed him on the cheek.

"You're so sweet! How can you be so sweet?"

"I think one of my grandmothers was Danish …"

.

After he had gotten into bed with her, reassuring her repeatedly that she didn't need a towel under her and two sets of panties were more than sufficient, she finally relaxed enough to cuddle against him and let him gently palpate her abdomen.

"There. How does that feel?"

"Mmmh. So great! Where did you learn that?"

He grimaced. "Joanne taught me. She became a monster when she was on her period. I really think I'm only alive because I was good at massaging her."

"Oh my. I never thought a guy could do that."

"Given the choice of massaging or getting eaten alive, I think all guys would spontaneously discover their hidden massaging talents … Hey, what's up? Are you crying?"

"No. That is … I'm just …"

"Are you sad that you're not pregnant?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I know, it's stupid, right? I didn't even want to be pregnant. It's too early!" And then she sighed. "But still … I've been wondering all the time, what it would be like. To have a baby. Oh, it's so stupid! How can I miss what I never had?"

He tightened his embrace and kissed her when she pressed her face on his chest.

"I know."

"You do? Do you miss it too?"

"Well … not like that, but it was kind of – I don't know, exciting? To think that you might be pregnant." He resumed his massaging, unobtrusively sliding the tips of his fingers under the edge of her panties as he gently stroked the area under her navel with his thumb. "And I was thinking …"

"What?"

"How about we forget about the condoms from now on?"

Monica stared at him. "Really? You mean, we just – take our chances? Chandler ..."

"Why not? We keep forgetting about them most of the time anyway. And it's not as if Ross and Phoebe can't get their own."

"Oh my god! That's so … but isn't it too early? I mean – we've just been together for a week …"

"And we've known each other for, what, thirteen years? That's got to count for something."

"But are you sure about this?"

"If you want this, then yes, I'm sure." He bent forward a little to kiss her lingeringly on the mouth. "I never thought I would ever be a dad. But I'm okay with it if you are."

She grabbed his head in both hands, her eyes shining. "Yes! Oh that's so exciting! I wish we could start right away!"

"Right now? Okay!"

"Ugh, what are you doing? Chandler! Stop it … oh. Oooh … No, don't -"

"Why not?"

She squirmed under his hand that he had pushed under her panties and tried weakly to push it away. "It's … because it's messy!"

"No, it's not." He cupped her breast with his other hand, gently kneading the nipple and sucking gently on the other. Monica breathed in sharply and inadvertently clamped her thighs on his wrist.

"But … but we can't …"

"Shshsh. It's alright. We can. Actually it's good – it stops the bleeding. And we can put that towel under if it makes you feel better." He raised himself up a little until he was lying halfway over her, never losing a beat at what he was doing to her breasts and her clit. Monica had clenched her hands on his shoulders, still tense and breathing raggedly, but gradually responding to his ministrations. When he kissed her and slowly tugged her panties down at the same time, her deathlike grip slowly relaxed until her arms wrapped around him as if by themselves, drawing him close. Her body seemed to open up for him, becoming soft and pliant, inviting him in as it always did, from their very first time. In the past week he had gotten to know it a lot better, and yet, as he nudged and dipped into her, slowly pushing in, it felt as deeply exhilarating and thrilling as at that first time. Just like then it seemed to him as if he was melting into her, their bodies drawing together and fusing, moving together in sync and becoming one. He felt her hands on his back and shoulders, her arms cradling him, her breasts pressing against him as they adjusted to a slow, undulating rhythm. They kept at it as long as possible, drawing it out until he felt like he was losing himself completely in her, giving himself to her. Her orgasm seemed to suck him even deeper into her, until his own seemed become a part of it, inseparable from hers. Only when she held his head over hers to kiss him he gradually became aware of himself again. For a while she wouldn't let him go and he remained on top of her, holding and kissing her until she gradually released her hold on him, then he lay down beside her and got her to turn around so they could spoon. When he put his arm around her and resumed his massage, she sighed with pleasure.

"Oh, that was so amazing …"

"Yeah, it was."

"I thought it could never work … and now I don't even have cramps … oh, that feels so good … um … ah, oh god –"

"It's okay, I got it -" Chandler felt around for her panties until he found them at the foot of the bed. "Here you go. Do you want a towel too?"

"No. Mmmh …" She lay back again and they fitted themselves into each other once more. Just as he felt himself drifting towards sleep, she stirred again, raising herself up enough to reach for the covers and drawing them up over both of them.

"Chandler?"

"Mmmh?"

"I'm so glad we did this."

"Mmmh. You are welcome …!"

"I mean, not this time – or yes, this time too, but all the times. I'm so happy that we did it a week ago."

"I know. I was thinking about it earlier, how all our lives were changed during last week. And how ours was the best of all."

"Yay! We're the best!" Monica pushed her fist in the air, then suddenly she laughed.

"What?"

"I was just thinking – none of this would have happened, if Roger hadn't gotten beeped!"

"Yeah. Good ole Dr. Beep. May his beeper – and his back-up – never malfunction!"

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A/N _So this is finally it! I know, theoretically I could have continued with this story indefinitely, but somehow there didn't seem to be much more left to tell in this little canon spin-off, so I thought that the end of their first week would really be the best point to bring this story to a close. I'm not much good at AUs anyway, even if it's based on canon like this, and when the time-lags between updates kept getting longer and longer, I decided that it was high time to round it off. But as long as it lasted I really enjoyed writing it, and I'm still amazed at how much response to it there has been. Big thanks to everyone who reviewed and/or talked to me about it, put it on alert and/or favorited it or even just left their mark in its traffic stats. It's been really great!_


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